Fix a Heart
by snixty9
Summary: When everyone walks out on Quinn Fabray, only one person has their feet firmly on the ground in her life: Santana Lopez. Is their friendship strong enough to knock down the walls Quinn constantly builds up? A story of how friends can overcome each other's mistakes & insecurities together & how the hard battles they fight for/with one another might even lead up to love... Quinntana
1. When You Are Weak, I Will Carry You

**A/N: **Second story and I can't get the storyline out of my head so I thought I might as well get started. Might be slow on updates since I'm still working on the other story, "You're My Head and You're My Heart". Check that out as well if you haven't already :) ID # 8666480

**AU: **Santana & Quinn are Cheerios, but Glee does not exist in their lives, so they are their own support system in high school. Quinn is pregnant with Puck's baby, but she hasn't told anybody yet.

**A/N WARNING:** Will contain a lot of deep issues including depression & self-hurt. If you are uncomfortable with the topic or if it may trigger something negative, please do NOT continue to read.

* * *

Quinn stared at the three pregnancy tests before her on her bathroom sink. All had the same thing on it: two little pink lines. Two lines that would change her life forever. All three tests read positive; Quinn was pregnant. The young girl pressed her back against the bathroom door and slid down into fetal position, cradling back and forth as she sobbed quietly with heaves of cries breaths in between. How could she raise a baby, when she was only a baby herself? Barely sixteen and the head cheerleader managed to seal her fate as a Lima loser. She buried her face into her knees and sobbed uncontrollably. Her lungs felt tight and her body felt weak. She felt like she was going to die. She _wanted _to die.

* * *

Santana had been calling Quinn's phone for over an hour now. It wasn't like Quinn to miss Cheerios practice without telling anyone, so Santana was naturally concerned for her friend. "Quinn, come on, where are you? Call me back as soon as you get this." It was the fifth voicemail she left Quinn. Santana took a deep sigh and rubbed her forehead in distress, _"I hope she's okay," _Santana thought. She knew how pressure could get to the best of Quinn sometimes. She'd seen it in the past during sectionals and nationals for the Cheerios in cheer competitions. The girl always tried to be synonymous with perfection and her obsession with it sometimes worried Santana.

Santana felt her phone vibrate.

_Q: Sorry to worry you. I just felt sick after school. I'm fine now.  
_  
Santana stared at her phone with her brows furrowed. She knew better than to believe that lie, but she didn't want to push the issue.

_Okay, feel better blondie, or else it'll be me on top of that pyramid instead ;) xx  
_

* * *

The next day at school, Quinn Fabray walked the halls of McKinley proudly as her Cheerios uniform swayed with her body. She hugged her books tightly as she thought of the future and how this uniform would no longer hug her body in a few months. The shame burned inside of her. However, Quinn tried not to seem worried, or let others know that she was falling apart inside, and most of them were convinced that she was fine. But Santana knew better.

Santana caught up with Quinn from behind, "Hey Q, missed ya at practice yesterday."

"I've realized you missed me. You made that blatantly clear through five voicemails last night," Quinn snapped.

Santana stopped dead in her tracks and turned her heel. She didn't need this from Quinn. She didn't need the HBIC attitude from her; not as a response to her only trying to be a caring, good friend to Quinn.

Quinn turned around, "Santana, wait," she called out, feeling bad after snapping at the one person who actually cared about her absence the day prior. Her boyfriend, Finn didn't even text her to see if she was still alive. Santana kept walking, unfazed by Quinn's apologetic tone. Quinn picked up her pace and tried to catch up with her. "Look I'm sorry," she said from behind, "I didn't mean to-"

"Whatever, Quinn. I'm not in the mood for one of your PMS mood swings," Santana interrupted, still not turning around to face Quinn.

Quinn sighed. She desperately wanted to blurt out the confession to Santana. They were pretty much the same person. Slept with the same guy, who had knocked her up, both on the Cheerios cheer squad, ridiculously popular and both shoe-ins for Homecoming Queen. She wanted to take some pressure off of her chest to someone who might understand. She wanted to lighten the hurt in her heart. She wanted to shift some weight off of her shoulders. But when she tried to open her mouth and cry out her circumstances, silence was the only echo that made a sound.

Too late, Santana marched into class, still ahead of Quinn. Still not taking a glance back. Quinn's heart only ached a little more.

During class, Quinn's attention was only to the class clock in the front of the room. The ticking drove Quinn to madness. Each tick and each tock was a reminder of the apocalypse bound to erupt in the matter of months.

_Tick. Stretch marks.  
Tock. Lima loser.  
Tick. Disowned by parents.  
Tock. Homeless.  
Tick.__ The stares.  
__Tock. Loneliness._

The bell rang and made Quinn shake in short shock.

"You okay there, blondie?" Santana called out with a cocked eyebrow.

"Yea, I'm fine," Quinn mumbled as she gathered her things from her desk, "Look San, I'm really sorry about earlier," Quinn started, "I'm just going through some... things," her voice was hesitant, looking around, making sure the classroom was still empty.

Santana shook her head, "I'm not your punching bag, Q. You don't get to push me away, be a bitch to me and still expect me to ask 'are you okay' when we both know that you're not. I don't know who you think I am or who you think you are, but I'm not going to play cat-and-mouse and chase you around for answers that you don't want to provide." If Quinn wanted to uphold her HBIC reputation, so did she. Santana was aggravated by this wall Quinn was trying to build.

Quinn's eyes welled up and her lower lip trembled as she tried to choke out the words, "I'm pregnant."

Santana stood in staggered silence with wide eyes and a clenched jaw. Her fingertips were firmly planted on the table, as if she was making sure she wouldn't float away in this numb shock. The few milliseconds between Santana's alarmed state, and her wrapping her arms around distraught and sobbing Quinn, felt like an eternity. She nearly jumped to her friend in natural response, trying to calm her down. She tried to think of a million things to say, but she wasn't sure what was right. She didn't want to trigger anything else, so she stood there, letting her actions be enough. She let her embrace be the comfort Quinn needed.

Quinn shook in her arms as she held onto Santana's body for dear life. She thought she was going to collapse because air was escaping her as she cried uncontrollably through short gasps. Reality was escaping her. Life was pulling the floor from right under her feet, but Santana held her up. Santana's arms were strong enough to do what Quinn's legs couldn't. She held her up.


	2. You Are Not Alone

Finn had been walking down the hall and caught a glimpse of a blonde in a Cheerios outfit crying in Santana's arms. He took three steps backwards and stuck his head into the room to confirm or deny if it was Quinn or not. He barged into the room, unannounced, "Quinn?" he called with a concerned tone.

Quinn looked up from Santana's embrace with a shocked face and a gasp, with tears still running down her cheeks. "Finn, what are you doing here," she uttered with sniffles and heaves of breaths in between.

"Yea, get out of here, Frankenteen, this is none of your concern." Santana added sassily as she rubbed Quinn's back to try and calm her down.

"Santana stop," Quinn said, sounding congested, still sniffling at the same time, "Please Finn, I just need some time alone," she pleaded as she hid her face into Santana's shoulder again.

"Did I do something wrong?" Finn approached the two petite girls. "I'm sorry if I did," he said like a dumb boyfriend who probably forgot an anniversary or birthday. "Is it our anniversary or something?"

"God, Flubber, will you please just leave! She obviously does not want you and your seven rolls of dough that sits under your shirt in here," Santana snapped, hugging the blonde tightly.

Finn looked at Santana challengingly, and then back to Quinn and placed a hand on her shoulder, "Did Santana say something to you to make you cry?"

Santana quickly slapped his hand away, "Seriously, I'm so about to end you right now!"

Quinn had to hold her friend back and struggled to stand between Finn and the Latina that was about to pounce, "Santana, no! Stop! Please the both of you!"

Santana realized that the strain was probably not good for Quinn or her baby, so she calmed herself down with a collected breath. "Sorry Quinn," she mumbled as she tried to calm herself down as she glared at Finn.

Quinn was calm, but still sounded a bit congested, "Finn, please, I just need some time alone right now. I'll tell you when I'm ready." She looked up at the tall boy, biting her lip with teary eyes.

Finn shot a dirty look at Santana, and then went back to softly gazing into Quinn's eyes, he took a deep sigh, "Alright," he conceded. With that, he walked out of the room as Quinn slowly followed him to shut the door. She held her back against the door with her arms crossed, no longer crying, but still had evidence of the breakdown with heavy red eyes.

Santana rushed to Quinn, "Don't tell me you're having a baby with the orca," she hissed quietly, in case Finn was eavesdropping through the door.

Quinn looked behind her to see if there were any lingering shadows through the blurred window of the door. She walked to the other side of the room and only Santana's eyes followed, deciding to give her friend a little space. "No," she replied flatly, "We never even had sex," her eyes began to well up again.

Santana's eyes widened, "Oh my God, it's Puck isn't it," she cried as she got closer to the blonde, waiting for the confirmation.

Pain had painted over Quinn's eyes and she nearly collapsed, had Santana not caught her. Again, buried her face into her friend's shoulder. Santana's Cheerios uniform had been shaded a darker red because of the wetness Quinn's eyes had caused. She sobbed and cried harder than the first time and held onto Santana's shoulders for dear life. She shook with fear, anger, sadness and confusion. "What do I do, Santana?" she weeped heavily.

Santana's eyes widened, but her stance stayed strong to keep her friend up. "Kill Puckerman," she replied simply. "Cut his dick and balls off and put it on a mantle," she added with a scowl on her face. Silence filled the room. Santana was never good with comfort. She felt awkward and obligated to always say something, so she made awful jokes to lighten up the mood. Her charm only sometimes worked. Right now, wasn't one of those times. Quinn was still crying, but only in softer sobs now, with lighter huffs in between. Santana realized Quinn didn't only need comfort, but advice and support in this life-changing decision, "Are you going to keep it," she asked quietly.

Quinn separated away from Santana's embrace and wiped away her own tears, roughly. "I have to keep it. I'm not - I can't - " Quinn stumbled over her words as she couldn't even think of the right words to form. She shook her head, "I'm not going to do _that," _was all she could think to say.

Santana nodded her head, "It's your choice and your body, and I want you to know you have my support regardless of what you choose to do."

Quinn finally sat down at one of the empty desks, and heaved a deep stressful sigh, "How am I going to tell Finn? What am I going to tell him?"

Santana shrugged, "Tell him, 'babe, I'm about to learn how to wobble with a big baby belly, just like you with your hanging flubber'." This was not for comedic relief in a comforting situation; Santana really just liked insulting Finn.

Quinn began to rub her temples, "This is serious, San," she scolded, "How am I going to convince Finn that he's the father of my baby?"

Santana looked at her friend like she was crazy and she crossed her arms in disbelief, "Excuse me, Q? Are you really going to try to convince baby back fat that he's the baby daddy of your baby?" she looked at her friend with wide eyes.

"I - I don't know. I can't see myself with Puck raising a baby," the blonde shook her head, staring blankly at the floor, calculating her options, "He's not _the one_, Santana."

Santana rolled her eyes in response. She was never one to believe in things like serendipity or soulmates, "And you think Finn, boy blubber, is?"

Quinn sighed, and nodded her head after a few minutes of thinking, "Yes, he's stable and he's safe and I know he'd do anything to protect me."

Santana cocked an eyebrow, "Look, I know families holds the word 'lies' in it, but lying to yourself, the baby and I hate to say it, even Finn is kind of low, Q."

"You don't understand, Santana, I don't have any other choice," her eyes began to well-up again as the thought of her future as a Lima-loser forever flashed in her mind.

Satana heaved a sigh, approached the blonde and grabbed her hands to prompt her to stand up. As soon as Quinn was standing in front of her, she gave her a genuine, comforting hug, "I will always be here for you, Q," she said quietly with her chin resting on Quinn's shoulder. Quinn laid her head on her friend's shoulder for few moments, not moving and for once not crying. She found more safety in Santana's arms than in anyone else's; even Finn's large arms didn't compete with the Latina's smooth skin and soft touch.

* * *

Quinn decided to tell Finn later that day and when she told him, she felt numb and cold. And when he broke down and cried, she didn't feel any pity for him because after all, it wasn't his body that was going to be ruined. At least he could hold on to his youth for at least nine more months. And he wouldn't have to deal with the stares and whispers as much as she would have to. So when he was on his knees, sobbing, all she did was put a hand on his shoulder. Quinn was too drained to reciprocate or mirror Finn's breakdown. She had cried enough the night before and that entire day.

As the bell rang, a flood of students came rushing out of classrooms, in haste of either going home, hanging out or dreading something like football or Cheerios practice. Quinn was standing in front of her locker, putting her books away and was interrupted as someone slammed her locker shut. She turned to her right, clenched her jaw and glared at the figure in front of her. "What do _you _want?"

"I heard through the grapevine, that you got a bun in the oven," Puck muttered, looking around making sure no one was eavesdropping.

Knowing already that Finn probably blabbered his mouth to his best friend, Quinn rolled her eyes, "What's it to you," she hissed.

"Why did you tell him it was his? You know it's not. And don't tell me otherwise because Finn's my boy and he would've told me if he tapped that."

Quinn gritted her teeth, "I'm not raising this baby with you. If anything, it's mine because all you provided were some wine coolers and your premature ejaculation. So I get to call the shots, and I say the baby of my father isn't going to be some Lima-loser."

Puck looked at her with slightly hurt eyes, "Whatever, good luck on your own then, _slut_," and with that last word, Puck walked away, with his head high.

That word stung Quinn. She felt a pinch at her heart as the word just rolled off of Puck's tongue with ease. She didn't think it would hurt this bad and she knew it would only get worse as more people were bound to find out.

* * *

About two months had passed and Quinn could slowly feel the baby growing inside of her. She was craving crazy things, but as soon as she put it in her mouth, she felt like throwing up. She couldn't stand certain smells anymore; Finn was one of them. Sometimes if he was too close, she wanted to upchuck right then and there on his striped rugby shirt. The smallest things would make her cry, like when Brittany told her the story of how her cat, Lord Tubbington, needs to go to rehab because it seems he has a cocaine addiction and can't stop. Santana was usually the one to console Quinn during her mini-breakdowns, but she found it too ridiculous as she just stared at her weeping friend with an open mouth and a confused face.

"When are you going to tell your parents," Finn came up to Quinn after school to her locker.

Quinn gave him a glaring look, "I'm trying to avoid that conversation for as long as I can," she got a whiff of Finn's cologne and gagged a little.

"But, you're starting to have a lot of signs," he said quietly, "People are starting notice," he looked around, "don't you think your parents have caught on by now?"

Quinn looked at him with her wide eyes. He had a point and now that she thought about it, she was sure her mom knew about her throwing up nearly every morning before school and every night before dinner. But only approached Quinn and only asked if she had something bad for lunch or if she was getting sick. Her mom couldn't have been _that _clueless. "I - I'm just not ready," she shook her head.

Finn placed a firm hand on Quinn's shoulder, trying to be comforting, "Look I'll be with you every step of the way. You're not alone in this," he moved his hand from Quinn's shoulder to her hand and held it firmly, "I love you."

Quinn kind of squirmed at the thought of her and Finn confronting her parents and because her hand felt uncomfortably tiny in Finn's hand. "I-" she hesitated at first looking down at the floor, "I love you too."

Little did Finn and Quinn know, Puck was lurking and leering just around the corner of the hall. He was jealous and spiteful and had nothing to lose if he exposed his and Quinn's little secret. After all, he was just a Lima-loser.

* * *

"Is it true?" Finn screamed in Quinn's face, with tears running down his face.

Quinn was caught off guard and backed up into the lockers, frightened, "Wh-What?" she stuttered.

"Just tell me is it true?!" his face was red, he slammed the locker next to Quinn's head, making her shake.

Santana heard the commotion from across the hall and shoved everyone out of her way to get to the scene. "What do you think you're doing?" she yelled at Finn, standing in guard of Quinn.

"Quinn just tell me am I the father of that baby?!" he screamed even louder, completely ignoring Santana's presence.

"Look Finnie the Pooh, if you don't get out of mine or Quinn's face this instant, you will regret it for the rest of your life," Santana stepped forward to Finn so he wouldn't be able to ignore her this time, poking at his chest, making sure he knew that it was a promise and not a threat.

Finn glared at both of them, waiting for an answer, still highly upset. "No," Quinn said quietly, but loud enough for Finn to hear, "you're not the father," she began to tear up.

Finn let out an aggravated scream, punched the wall opposite of Quinn and Santana and walked away in rage, with half of the student body staring at him storm off, and the other half staring at Santana and Quinn. Santana turned around and embraced Quinn, trying to shield her from the stares. Quinn shook with hurt and pain from inside and out. She couldn't breathe. She tried to inhale and exhale, but her breaths only came sporadically. She squeezed onto Santana's Cheerios uniform as if it was the last thread of rope holding her up. She didn't look up, she didn't open her eyes or say anything else. Only allowed herself to melt away in her friend's arms, wishing that Santana was enough of a shield to protect her from anything else.

"Mini-Madonna and JLO, in my office now," Sue Sylvester came out of her office surprisingly and had a stern look on her face.

Santana looked up from her crying friend to her coach in surprise and dismay. All of a sudden, fear had taken over Santana's mind. Not for herself, but for her best friend. She knew Cheerios was the only thing holding Quinn together at this point. Her uniform and title was the only thing keeping her at her status, despite the whispers and rumors that had already began stir. Without the Cheerios, Quinn would fall apart, and Santana didn't know if her hugs would be enough to save her anymore. She swallowed hard, and whispered to Quinn, "Come on, let's go," she rubbed Quinn's arms as if trying to warm her up, "it'll be okay," she added in a reassuring voice. "This is not a free show people!" she screamed at the straggling bystanders, who were still staring at them, "Get moving or you will feel my wrath." People immediately scurried along.

Quinn wiped her face with the back of her hand and sniffled once more before tightening up her ponytail and straightening out her Cheerios uniform (that had grown uncomfortably tight for the past two weeks). She nodded to Santana as a sign that she was ready to go in and face Sue's fury.

Quinn and Santana both sat down at Sue's desk, in a room full of her golden trophies, "Q, you're off the Cheerios," she coldly said immediately as soon as they sat down. "I can't have a pregnant girl on the team. I want your uniform in my office tomorrow morning. Santana you're taking her place as Captain."

They both looked at their coach wide-eyed and speechless. "Coach Sylvester," Quinn choked out, "you can't -"

" - Do this? I just did," Sue interrupted, "Now get out of my office before your tears stain my newly steamed carpet and before your hormones get to the best of me." She shooed them away, with her attention only on the cheerleading magazine she began to read. Quinn got up from her seat and ran out, with her hands covering her face as she began to sob and Santana ran out after her. "You're welcome Paula Abdul!" Sue called out to Santana.

"Quinn, wait!" Santana desperately cried out to Quinn, but she kept on running, picking up her pace a little bit. "Quinn stop!"

Quinn kept on running, her tears blurring her vision, but she didn't care if she ran into anyone. Hell, she didn't care if a bus hit her; at least her pain would stop. Her knees burned, but she kept on running the wind rushing past her ears. She could slightly hear Santana's voice, but even that wasn't enough to comfort her at this point. She was done. Her life was over and she knew the moment she would tell her parents, there would be absolutely no reason to live. She ran on, hoping to run into another dimension where this didn't happen and where everything was okay again. She felt a tug at her hand and was forced to a halt.

"Quinn," Santana was trying to catch her breath, "I said stop!" Quinn tried to snatch her hand away and wanted to keep on running, but Santana held her grip tighter. "Quinn, for crying out loud, stop, please," the Latina pleaded, her voice cracking.

Quinn fell to her knees, feeling grass. She must've ran far enough to reach the outside of school. She began to weep, facing away from Santana. Her heart hurt, her eyes were tired, and her lungs felt like they were going to collapse. This pain was unbearable and she just wanted it to go away. The one hand that wasn't in Santana's gripped onto the grass. She let out a cry that strained her lungs and shut her eyes as tight as she could. No matter how much she screamed or cried, she still felt a torturous misery in her heart.

Then all of a sudden, Quinn felt a body on against her back as if it were shielding her. Then two arms came around her stomach and held her tightly and then Quinn felt the body quiver with cries on her shoulder. Santana Lopez had broken down and was on her knees behind Quinn Fabray. The girl that was known for being tough in every way, and known for never shedding a tear, even when she broke her arm during Cheerios practice last year, had bursted into tears and was weeping with her friend. Santana's heart broke with Quinn's and all she wanted to do was take the pain away. As soon as she caught her breath, Santana managed to utter something into Quinn's ear, through her tears.

"I will always have your back, Quinn Fabray. I will never leave you."

The words made Quinn cry even harder, but she held onto Santana's hands that were around her stomach to reassure Santana that she was thankful for her presence. They both shook with a flood of emotions. But Quinn felt safe, and for once, this darkness that had been eating at her flesh lately did not entirely engulf her. For once, since she had found out she was pregnant, she did not feel alone.

* * *

**A/N:** This chapter took me at least three days to type/think of. Sorry if it's pretty lengthy. Probably the longest chapter I've ever written. And sorry if the story feels a bit rushed (Finn & Puck's parts are very minor), but I wanted to skip the basics, so I can go further into Santana & Quinn's friendship soon. I tried to capture the meaning of their friendship with what I could in this chapter. Hope ya'll enjoyed it; reviews would be appreciated. :)


	3. Mi Casa Es Su Casa

Quinn had replaced her Cheerios uniform with loose sweaters, flowy shirts and bigger pants. She had been about three months along and she was beginning to show physically. Word had gone around school and everyone knew; even the teachers. Santana had graciously taken the captain position and replaced Quinn, but only after making sure Quinn was alright with it. They both came to a conclusion that it was for the best and it would only protect both of them in the end. And in fact, Santana made sure she used her power for good as she glared at every student or teacher that she caught giving funny looks to Quinn. Her snarky remarks were just as sharp as her piercing angry looks. Quinn was getting bigger, and the days were getting darker... It was only a matter of time until she would have to tell her parents.

"Quinn," Quinn blinked hard out of her thoughts and realized that Santana and Brittany were standing right in front of her in the cafeteria.

"Did you forget to wear your underwear today too?" Brittany asked.

Quinn smiled at her question. It was always nice to have Brittany around for random smiles and soft laughs, "No," she shook her head, "but thanks for asking."

"We miss you, Quinn," Brittany sat next to Quinn and Santana sat across from the two at the cafeteria table, "You know, if I was Coach Sylvester, I would've totally just made you a Cheerios tent to wear, so you could stay on the team."

"Um, thanks?" sometimes Brittany's quips were more insulting than funny, but Quinn never found it in her heart to actually ever be mad at her blonde friend.

"Hey BrittBritt, don't you have your Unicorn Club meeting today?" Santana reminded.

"Oh shoot," Brittany replied, "Thanks for the reminder Santana!" Brittany swiftly got up from where she was sitting and hurried along to where her meeting was supposed to take place.

Santana shook her head and giggled at her friend, "So, how have you been holding up?" Santana turned her attention to Quinn, "Anyone giving you a hard time? Do I need to go all-Lima-Heights on anybody?" she leered around the cafeteria making sure nobody was staring at them.

Quinn gave her a half smile, "It's better here than home, most of the time," Quinn sighed, "at least I have you here."

Santana reached across the table and gave Quinn's hands a light squeeze, "You know you have Brittany too. And you know you can spend the night at my place any time you want. Mi casa es su casa," she gave her a reassuring smile.

"Thanks Santana," she paused and looked down for a moment, "Would you mind if - " her mind searched for the right way to ask, "could you - " she bit her lip in slight embarrassment.

Santana kept her hands on Quinn's, but cocked an eyebrow, "Look Quinn, I don't mind a little girl-on-girl action now and then, and I know I'm known as Santana-Never-Say-Nopez, but you're preggers, and that's just kind of weird, honestly."

"What?" Quinn replied, "No - that's not what I was -" Quinn's eyes widened as she realized what Santana thought she was going to ask her. She shook her head, "I don't want that," she explained bashfully.

"Oh," Santana answered, turning a bit red herself, "What was the question then?"

Quinn took a deep breath, "I was wondering if you would mind being there when I told my parents about my situation," Quinn looked down, referring to the baby that was growing inside of her. "I'd just feel more comfortable with you there, and I have to do it soon, and I just feel like if you were there, they wouldn't be as mad, or at least they wouldn't throw me out on my ass right then and there, and if you were there, you could - " Quinn tended to babble when she was nervous. Santana cut her mid-rant, with a hand in her face to motion her to just stop.

"Say no more, I'm there. Just tell me when and where."

* * *

Two weeks had passed since Quinn had asked Santana to be her security guard against her parents' wrath that was to come. Quinn was at Santana's house picking out an appropriate outfit for the night.

"No, too tight," Quinn shook her head.

"Are you kidding me?!" Santana put her hands on her hips, in dismay. She had gone through at least three other outfits and was already wearing a black turtle neck to conceal her too-big-cleavage and a pencil black skirt with the length below her knees.

"Yes, and it's too dark, I don't want my parents thinking you're a goth." Quinn added.

Santana let out a frustrated grunt, "Look Prego, your parents know me. They've seen me before and I've gone to dinners and birthdays with them before." She took off the turtle neck.

"Yea, but that was under different circumstances. Besides, most of the time we were in our Cheerios uniform."

Santana rolled her eyes, not wanting to argue with the already nervous pregnant teen and searched her closet in her bra. "How about this?" She chose a striped button up that was light blue and white and held it up to her torso. Quinn gave her deadpanned look as her response. "What's wrong with this?" Santana questioned, sincerely confused.

"It'll show your cleavage!" Quinn argued.

"Quinn Fabray, I am going to choke you!" Santana threw her shirt in a random direction, only to turn around to her closet again and rifle through her clothes. She threw her hands up in the air, "I give up," she shook her head in frustration. She turned to face Quinn, "You choose my top, Heidi Klum" she crossed her arms.

Quinn gladly got up from Santana's bed and switched places with Santana in front of her closet. She searched rummaged through her friend's clothes in hopes of finding something suitable and appropriate for the news she was going to deliver with her friend. "Here!" She took off an off-white cashmere sweater from a hanger and tossed it to Santana.

Santana caught it before it could hit her face, and as she put it on she grumbled something under her breath, "Crazy pregnant lady."

Quinn crossed her arms, "What was that?"

"Nothing."

* * *

Santana arrived ten minutes before six, just like Quinn had told her to. Right after she rung the doorbell, Mrs. Fabray answered the door. "Santana!" She greeted the young girl with a hug, "It's always so nice to see you, sweetheart. I'm glad you could join us tonight," Santana caught a whiff of Mrs. Fabray's perfume blended in with the scent of alcohol. Nonetheless, she hugged back politely.

"Thank you for having me."

Mrs. Fabray motioned for Santana to come inside, "Quinn will be down shortly. Sit down make yourself at home, dear," Santana did as she was told, "Would you like anything to drink?"

_"Vodka and cranberry juice," _Santana thought secretly as her nerves began to tense up. "Um, some water would be nice," she said out loud and gave an artificial smile to Mrs. Fabray.

Before Mrs. Fabray headed into the kitchen to get Santana a glass of water, she called out to her daughter, "Quinn, honey, your best friend Santana is here!" and she left Santana alone in the living room._  
_  
Santana heard gentle footsteps coming down the steps and turned her attention to the staircase. Quinn came down elegantly with her hand on the banister, in a long sleeved vintage white lace dress that was slightly above her knees. Her eyes fluttered with her long lashes, and her painted red lips formed a slight curve as she made eye contact with Santana, feeling warmth and safety that she usually felt around her. Santana got up from her seat and met Quinn at the bottom of the stairs to hug her. "You look _perfect, _Q," Santana beamed.

Quinn gave a shy grin, "Thanks."

Santana grabbed Quinn's hand with both of hers, "You got this," she winked at her bestie, "And I got you."

* * *

Mr. and Mrs. Fabray sat at one end of the dining table and Santana and Quinn sat on the opposite side. They ate in silence for the most part, with a few small-talk questions and answers in between. Quinn mostly stared at her food than ate it. Her throat felt dry, her palms were sweaty and her feet were restless as she kept tapping her foot silently on the carpet. Her teeth were clenched and when she tried to eat, she chewed slowly and bit down hard. Every time she looked up, sure that she was going to begin her confession to her parents, her stomach felt like it was turned inside out and she immediately looked down again, trying to regulate and silence her heavy breathing.

Of course Santana could sense Quinn's nervousness and fear. She took a quick glance at Quinn's parents and realized that they were paying attention more on their drinks than their own daughter having a slight mini-panic attack at the table. "You know, Quinn's an amazing girl," Santana started. She squeezed Quinn's knee under the table, trying to give her confidence and trying to calm her nerves, "She's a great friend and a hard-working student," Santana smiled sweetly as she gave a quick look to her friend.

"Yes, Santana, we're well aware of the greatness our Quinnie bear is," Mr. Fabray replied in a gruff voice before taking another swig of his whiskey on the rocks.

"Really?" Santana snapped back, naturally (not meaning to sound rude) "How would you know when - "

"- Santana," Quinn piped up quietly and stared down her friend next to her, motioning her to stop talking.

Santana cleared her throat, "When the school doesn't give her as much recognition as she deserves," she saved herself with a quick change of words.

Quinn let out a breath of relief and looked down on her plate. Mrs. Fabray finally noticed Quinn's subtle distress, "Quinn honey, is there something wrong?"

Quinn knew she couldn't run from it anymore. She knew that this was the moment to do it. There was no way around it. Quinn threw her fork and knife onto her plate, making an unpleasant clanging noise, "Everything is wrong!" she cried out, her voice shaking as well as her hands. She looked up at her parents and tears began to form in her eyes, "I'm not your little girl anymore," she choked out. It became difficult to breathe again. She was gasping for air through her tears and she cupped her forehead to shield her face from her parents.

"Quinn, what's all this about?" her father asked in a deeply concerned tone.

Santana rubbed her back, trying to calm her friend down and trying to regulate her breathing. Quinn's cries were still dominating her breaths, "I - I - I'm -" she stuttered. She didn't have it in her to say the words out loud.

"Quinn," her mother called out. Mr. and Mrs. Fabray now held stern faces and had anger and worry settle in their eyes.

"I'm pregnant!" Quinn shivered and shook as the words came spilling out of her mouth. Like bricks, the words fell out, and like bricks, they shattered each person's heart in that room as if they were windows. Quinn's heart sunk down into her stomach, her ribs felt like they were collapsing in on her lungs and her lips trembled as if she was laying in ice in her bare skin. She felt like needles were piercing her flesh and her tears felt like acid falling from her face, down to her neck. This pain was unbearable. Then she felt Santana's hand hold hers, and allowed her to slow down her erratic breathing.

Silence filled the room for a moment and they sat around the table, unable to look at each other. They all stared down blankly, still allowing everything to sink in. "Get out," were the words that finally broke the eerie quietness. It was Quinn's father's heavy voice that had literally tore her heart apart.

"But Daddy - " Quinn cried out.

"I said get out!" His voice made Quinn, Santana and even Mrs. Fabray flinch. He gave his daughter an icy look.

"Daddy, I'm still your little girl! I still love you, Daddy!" Quinn managed to cry out through her physical and emotional pain.

"God damn it!" Mr. Fabray slammed two fist on the table, making everyone shake, "I will not have a whore as my daughter! I am no longer your Daddy," his eyes were filled with hate and disgust, "Now I want you out of this house before the end of tonight," he said harshly as he got up the table, of course grabbing his glass of whiskey and walked away.

Quinn looked at him with hurt eyes as he turned away and she let out a painful cry as if a child's soul was being crushed right then and there. She held onto her chest as she sobbed uncontrollably. Santana had gotten up from her seat as soon as Mr. Fabray left the room and hugged Quinn from the side, resting her her chin on her friend's trembling shoulders. She squeezed tight, hoping to calm Quinn down with warmth and affection.

Mrs. Fabray quietly got up shortly after her husband and was about to leave with her glass of wine. Her face was pale and pasty, with her eyes still wide from the news. "Mom?" Quinn cried out looking up to her mother, still crying heavily, tears cascading down her soft cheeks.

Her mother shook her head in disapproval, "No, don't come to me seeking refuge," she a held a cold look on her face as well.

"But you knew all this time!" Quinn shouted, "You knew all this time and you never said anything. I needed you," she broke down as her voice cracked and quivered. Santana still hung onto her like a blanket, on her knees, for once praying to a higher-power to give her friend the strength to make it through the night. Mrs. Fabray stared at her daughter with a shocked look on her face. Quinn got up, escaping from Santana's embrace and walked up to her mom, "You're so concerned with being the perfect wife and Christian that you don't think to be a mother first!"

_Smack._The sound of Mrs. Fabray's hand slapping across Quinn's face was the only audible sound that rang throughout the entire house. Even Quinn's sobs had been silence by this startling action. Quinn's mom had a hard time catching her breath as she staggered away from the scene and her daughter. Quinn stayed frozen for a few seconds, and as Santana approached her, she had the sudden reflex to flee. Quinn ran up the stairs with sudden speed, and locked herself in the bathroom. Santana quickly chased after her, but the door slammed in her face before she could fight Quinn to let her in.

Santana banged on the door, "Quinn let me in!" She knocked on the door with a balled fist again, "Quinn!"

Quinn could not hear the commotion outside, everything was still and silent to her. Even her cries and sobs were inaudible and she stared at her ugly whimpering reflection. She gripped onto the sink as she felt a pressure in her stomach that rose to her throat and out of her mouth. The acid stung her throat and she heaved one last time before letting the sink run to wash it away. She left the water on, and looked up slowly to face her reflection again. Quinn felt repulsed by the pathetic face that was staring back at her. She stared angrily at her own self and felt anger boil under her skin. She felt hate form in heart towards the person that she was looking at. She rested her balled first on the cold sink and with a sudden jolt, she punched the face looking right back at her, bursting the mirror into shards of sharp glass. The blow had caused her hand to bleed and she eyed her cut flesh with numbness. She sunk down onto the floor, and backed away from the door, with the pieces of glass surrounding her. Quinn hugged her knees, while still staring at her injured hand. The pain and adrenaline combined, allowed her to forget what was actually happening and gave her a sense of control; control she had been craving, but could never conjure.

Just then Santana came bursting through the bathroom door. She looked down at her blonde friend and screamed as she saw the bloody broken scene, "Quinn!" She immediately crouched down on her knees and put her arms around her friend. Santana sunk her face into Quinn's shoulder, gripped onto her friend's back and began weeping.

Quinn tucked her face into the corner between Santana's neck and her shoulder. She clenched onto Santana's sweater with her cut hand and strained her lungs with heavy cries of grief. Her world was being ripped apart one by one, by one stupid mistake that had corrupted her built perfection. Quinn's life crumbled into tears and blood. And if it wasn't for Santana being her lifesaver, she would have perished in her sadness and drowned herself in her darkness and sorrows. Blood stained Santana's shirt, and tears stained both of their hearts. Once again, Quinn did not feel alone.

* * *

**A/N:** Didn't really have time to check for minor errors, so sorry if you run into any of those. My Mac won't charge and it's at 9% right now. Was desperate to finish this chapter and post it up! Hope all you had a great Thanksgiving break (for those in the US). xx


	4. Bella's Lullaby

Quinn held her growing stomach with her bandaged hand; she was lost in her thoughts and stared outside the window, where a gray gloom painted the skies. She listened speckles of rain beating on glass as it synchronized with the beating of her broken heart. _"Three months,"_ she silently thought to herself, _"I read somewhere I should be showing around three months,"_ she looked down to where her injured hand was and sighed in sadness as she realized she would be the size of a blimp in due time.  
_  
_"Hey," a voice broke Quinn's reverie and she looked up to meet Santana's warm brown eyes, "stop it," she softly chastised, "stop thinking so much," as if she saw what was stirring in Quinn's mind. As if she could read the worried lines that formed on Quinn's face when she stared off into space like she does when she was beating herself up over something. She sat down next to Quinn on the bed and put her hand over Quinn's hand that held her stomach, "How's little Quinnie?" Santana leaned her forehead against Quinn's temple; a gesture that spoke Santana's thoughts, _"I wish I could just take your pain away," _she silently thought, wishing that her skin could just absorb all of the misery Quinn was holding in.

It was only a few nights ago that Quinn's parents had coldly thrown her out; no place to go and no one to turn to. But Santana was her refugee; her savior. The Lopez's took the broken girl under their wing and took her in as their own. Maribel and Ricardo Lopez watched the quiet, small girl, grow into a gorgeous, beautiful young lady, who still held the same timidness and the same quiet quality, but held more wisdom, poise and responsibility than most girls her age. They loved Quinn, despite her flaws, her insecurities and her mistakes. Quinn grew up _with _Santana, calling Maribel and Ricardo, Mami and Papi Lopez. They didn't hesitate one second, when they received their daughter's frantic call to pick them up from the Fabray household, nor did they need an explanation. They accepted Quinn, no words, questions or empty gestures needed for the girl to feel at home and to feel like part of the family, without having to ask. Quinn was grateful for Santana, to say the least.

"How do you know it's a girl?" Quinn replied softly to Santana's question, gazing at her pale, almost ghostly skin, against Santana's olive, warm hand. The sight warmed her heart and gave her a sense of ease.

Santana shrugged, moving her head from Quinn's temple to her shoulder and laid there comfortably, "I just have a feeling," she smiled quietly to herself, her hand never leaving Quinn's.

The girls heard a soft knock against the open door, and found Maribel Lopez standing at the doorway when they both looked up, "Hey girls," she greeted cheerily, walking in with a plate of what looked like sliced mangos and pineapples in her hand, "thought you could use a healthy snack," she walked towards them and sat on the edge of the bed as well, placing the plate down. The girls turned to face her immediately and Santana did not hesitate to dig into her mother's provided snacks; however, Quinn stayed put, not even eyeing the plate.

"Quinn, honey, aren't you hungry? You haven't eaten anything since that piece of toast this morning, and it's now four o'clock," Maribel asked with a concerned look on her face.

Quinn shook her head as politely as she could, "No thank you, Mami," she replied stiffly.

"Quinn, come on it's your favorite!" Santana commented, she held a piece of pineapple teasingly in front of Quinn's face, trying to feed her.

Quinn moved her face away from the tempting fruit, "No, really, I'm okay," she pushed Santana's hand away, or at least tried to, "Santana quit it!" she barked moodily as Santana persisted on pushing the fruit in her face.

"Mija," Maribel scolded in a motherly tone towards Quinn, "starving yourself is no good for that baby of yours or your own health for that matter."

Quinn looked at her with her wide green, hazel speckled eyes. Her few days there, they had never actually discussed the reason as to why her parents had disowned her and kicked her out. She shot a frantic look at Santana, as if sending a telepathic message, _"Why did you tell them?!"_

Santana read the look on her face and put her arms up in defense, "Hey don't look at me that way, I didn't tell her!" she hopped of the bed, crossing her arms.

Maribel placed a gentle hand on Quinn's hand, "A mother always knows, Mija," she winked at her and squeezed Quinn's hand in reassurance, "Don't worry, sweetie, we're going to take care of you. We are your family, always have been, always will be," she scooted closer to Quinn, "Whatever you need, we'll provide," she placed her other hand behind Quinn's head, and pulled her in gently for a kiss on the forehead.

Quinn felt weak, as if her neck no longer had the strength to hold her head up and her forehead fell against Maribel's shoulder. She began to sob profusely, overwhelmed by love and warmth that she was never grew accustomed to at home. She was so used to bottling everything up, sealing the lid and placing all her emotions in a freezer where coldness found its way to heart. The concept of a family was foreign to her; the thought of someone loving her regardless of faults was a far-fetched concept and when she finally felt something of the sort, she didn't know how to handle it with grace. So she stained Maribel's shirt with tears, but for once not tears of anguish and pain, but tears of joy. Santana shortly joined the hug, putting her arms behind Quinn and resting her chin on Quinn's shoulder. How was Quinn so lucky to have people love her beyond her imperfections and forgive her for her stupid blunders? She cried even harder as she felt love enter her heart, as if the embraces were radiating affection through the Lopez women's skin.

* * *

Three more months passed, but it didn't make the pregnancy, the stares or the loneliness any easier on Quinn. Her mood swings, though they occurred less often, were sharper and snappier. Though her gag reflex had calmed down quite significantly, her sense of smell was still impeccable. She could smell Santana light years away and could pin point what room she was exactly in at home or at school, through her wafting smell of Japanese Cherry Blossom scented lotion and/or sometimes body spray. And despite the fact that she found herself emotional sometimes, having triggers like watching Disney movies with Santana and Brittany, she no longer flooded with tears from feeling shards of broken pieces poking at her ribs. On occasions, when she was reminded that her body was no longer the same or recalled the night her mother and father disowned her, an inevitable desolation and heartache wrapped around her heart, squeezing her sorrowful tears out, but Santana or Mami Lopez were always there to wipe them away. And in the those passed three months of pregnancy, she had grown this secret dependency on Santana; as if she always needed her at her side. When she found herself alone, separated from the luscious Latina in class or at home, she longed for the soft caress of Santana's cinnamon-stained skin to reassure her that she certainly wasn't alone. Quinn always needed her reassurance that she wasn't going to leave; it was a closet clinginess she kept to herself.

But in some events, the pregnant, hormone-filled teenager, found herself wanting to strangle her best friend and Santana inevitably sometimes felt the same. Being roommates was certainly different from being just friends. Santana found it inconvenient when Quinn would be restless at night and feel the need to crawl in her bed. The body heat from the pregnant girl was unbearable and the way she tossed and turned trying to find a comfortable position resulted in Santana's aggravated grunts and very sleepless eyes at 6AM Cheerios practice. Quinn found it irritating that Santana seemed to _always _have "company" over when her parents were gone at work or doing something else. In an unfortunate event when Quinn walked in on Santana on top of one of the football players, they agreed upon a system in which Santana placed a green scrunchie on the door knob when she was being "accompanied" by someone else. That green scrunchie was on the door knob a lot, to say the least. One time, Brittany quietly walked out of the room after Quinn waited patiently for Santana's houseguest to leave. Quinn only gaped at the sight, waved silently at Brittany and when she walked into the room, she found Santana fluffing up her pillows and making her bed. When she asked Santana about it, Santana replied with a quiet shrug, and said, "It's Brittany," as if the decision was that simple to make. It didn't make Quinn uncomfortable; actually it made her a little curious, but when the thought brushed her mind, she always pushed her sexual frustrations away, blaming her raging hormones due to pregnancy and her adolescent stage.

Santana and Quinn shared Santana's room, which didn't help the growing tension between them. Despite the large room, being able to fit two queen-sized beds (Santana's parents decided that Quinn would need a lot of sleeping space throughout her pregnancy) and the two teenaged girls' endless amount of clothes, make-up and extensive skin-care and hair products, the room still wasn't big enough to ease the antagonism in the air. Santana and Quinn were both on edge, finding frustrations in every action the other girl committed. They were doing homework after school one day in their bedroom in their respective corners on separate beds. Santana had her earphones in, singing her heart out to each line and Quinn was going mad as she gritted her teeth in annoyance, throwing daggers at Santana through her glare.

"I'm in love with a stripper!" Santana sang out loud, bobbing her head while laying on her stomach, reading her history textbook. She was completely oblivious to the angry blonde across form her, "She poppin', she rollin', she climbin' that pole and -" she snapped her fingers to the beat, "I'm in love with a - HEY!" A pillow coming from Quinn's side of the bedroom hit her in the face and interrupted her singing, "What's your problem, preggers?!" Santana snapped, pulling her earphones off in anger and getting up off her stomach.

"Shut up! Just shut up!" Quinn screamed back, "Do you ever just shut up?!" she had reached her breaking point.

"Why are you so uptight!" Santana shouted back, now standing beside her bed, ready for a verbal battle, "It's not my fault you only listen to crap like Coldplay and Taylor Swift!"

"And all you listen to are songs about strippers and hoes!" Quinn's anger had reached a boiling point. It was the level of irritability where hurtful words could potentially accidentally slip, "Are you singing about your future career?!" she slipped.

Santana stared at her with a raised an eyebrow, her arms crossed and had an expression of shock on her face, as if saying _"Did you really just say that?" _through her facial demeanor. "Callate el osico gordota!" she cursed in Spanish, "You know what, if you weren't pregnant I would have slapped you so hard into another country!"

"Where?!" Quinn quickly snarled, "To your homeland?!" she was now standing up too, flailing her arms around.

Santana's eyes burned with flames; had Quinn not been her best friend, she may very well be six feet under. She held her composure though, and exhaled an aggravated sigh, with a clenched jaw and balled up fists. She stared Quinn down, but Quinn kept her ground, her green eyes, angry as well. Santana decided to be a better person and stomped out the room, but not before slamming the door shut, making Quinn jolt a little at the loud noise. Finally, silence to Quinn's ears. Quinn could finally think for once and hear her own thoughts.

After the fight, the two girls didn't speak one word to each other for the rest of the night or for all of the next day. If they had, their anger may have escalated into violence. Santana came home after Cheerios practice to an empty house. "Hello?" she called out as she shut the door behind her. No one replied. She was relieved. As much as she loved Quinn and their friendship, it was nice to finally be alone. She forgot what it was like to come home and be able to breathe her own air without the worry of bursting someone's bubble. She walked over to a black grand piano and sat down as she placed her backpack on the floor making a soft "thump". She ran her hands through the dusty cover of the piano; it had been a while since she'd played. With Cheerios practice, maintaining a 3.8 GPA, ruling William McKinley High School with a strict reign, and keeping Quinn safe, she barely had time for anything else.

Santana slowly lifted the cover as the wood slowly creaked open. It was a welcoming sound to her ears as if it were saying "Hello again, old friend." She smiled at the black and white keys before her. She pressed one key, and after that, began to create a symphony of notes that weaved in together so softly and gently. It was something that was tugging at her heart that she needed to play; like a song stuck in her head and her heart, but had never heard before. She became lost in her melody.

Quietly, up the stairs, the floor creaked. Quinn peeped her head from the bedroom door. The music was drawing, seemingly calling her. She had been home for several hours now, skipping her last class, and was caught off guard when she heard a piano playing. She slowly snuck out of the room and creeped slowly down the stairs, not wanting to disturb or interrupt the pianist. She knew who was playing; she could smell a distinct waft of Japanese Cherry Blossom lotion. Quinn's heart seemed to have synchronized with the musical notes that bounced off the walls and filled the room with warmth. She stopped in her footsteps and felt an odd, subtle movement in her stomach. Her quiet gasp caused Santana's playing to come to an abrupt halt. Quinn held her stomach in awe, as if the baby inside were dancing to the rhythm. Santana looked at her with curious eyes and was shocked to find the blonde standing there. Quinn looked up slowly, taking her green eyes off of her midriff and met deep brown ones. "She kicked," she smiled at her friend.

Santana responded with a grin on her face as well. She got up from where she as sitting and without hesitating or asking put her hands on her friend's stomach, desperate to feel the movement of a growing life. However, after waiting a couple minutes, she frowned, "It won't kick."

"_She _won't kick," Quinn corrected.

Santana quirked up an eyebrow, not even processing that Quinn had said _she_when she first introduced the news. "How do you know it's a girl?" she asked, her hands still glued onto the same spot, determined to feel some sort of movement.

"I went to an appointment a couple days ago," she answered with a smile on her face and a dazzle of happiness in her eyes, "it's a girl."

Santana kneeled down on the floor, getting on her knees, eagerly pushed her hands under Quinn's shirt and pressed her ear against Quinn's warm stomach, "Hello in there," she cooed, "Please dance for you Auntie 'Tana."

Quinn jumped at Santana's touch, but giggled at the sight. No one had ever gotten Santana to get on her knees. Quinn was sure if she told this to anyone, Santana would profusely deny any allegations and shun her for the rest of her life for spreading the awful truth. She'd never seen Santana like this; so soft and gentle. It looked good on the sultry Latina, who always had to hold a rough and tough exterior. She put her soft hands over Santana's, her milky skin tone contrasting Santana's bronze tan. In that exact moment, they both felt a smooth movement and both Santana and Quinn looked at the source of the flux in Quinn's body. Smiles became present on both girls' faces.

Santana stood up from her knees, and grabbed Quinn's hand, not saying a word. She pulled her to the piano and sat down, signaling Quinn to sit down as well. Without words, she began to play the piano and played the tune she was playing earlier. But this time it was different... There was more passion, more fervor, more reason behind it. It sang to Quinn's heart, to the life growing inside of her; without words, Santana played a song of love dedicated to the blonde next to her, and the little one in her womb. When her fingers played the last note, she turned to Quinn. Her big brown eyes held subtlety in them, with an intent of a message she wanted to send to Quinn, but couldn't quite form into words. "Bella," was all that managed to spring from her lips, "It means beautiful in Italian," she smiled softly at Quinn.

Quinn smiled in response, quickly glanced down at her growing abdomen and then stared back intently into Santana's eyes, "She will be Bella."

* * *

**A/N:** Long time no update! So sorry guys, been a little preoccupied with life & the other fic. Thought this one needed some TLC ;) Anyways, yes I changed Beth's name... Thought it was fitting since Puck is not a main factor in the story; there's also another reason, which you will all eventually find out. Also, if you want to know what I had in mind for the song Santana was playing on the piano in this chapt listen to this youtube(.c o m)/watch?v=w5mn9W86FlI there's also a reason to this, which you will find out in due time. (the site won't let me post the actual link, so I guess you guys will have to uncode the link lol. if you can't, just PM me and i'll send the link) Review for inspiration & improvement ;)


	5. I Only Want The Best For You

Quinn was struggling; she was drowning in her schoolwork, overwhelmed on emotions and desperately missed being on top of the Cheerios pyramid. She missed being a teenager where all she had to worry about was the perfection in her ponytail, Sue Sylvester's intense workouts and diets, not falling asleep in History class and how to maintain her popularity and rule over the school. Those tasks seemed so much simpler than remembering to take her daily vitamins so her baby could have a normal head of hair, or worrying about certain diseases that her baby could be born with, or even her mind consistently circling around the menacing thoughts of stretch marks and lactation. She missed being head cheerleader, despite Coach Sylvester's torturous practices. She missed the sea of students parting like the Red Sea for her when she walked down the halls. She missed going to parties and pep rallies with Santana and Brittany. She missed being able to let loose, get drunk and dance on tables once in a while with her best friends at her side, feeling like queens. She missed being _perfect_. This pregnancy certainly slowed down her pace in the chase of reaching her goal of perfection.

She already missed her homecoming dance and football game, and with the responsibility of this baby, she would miss her junior prom, senior prom and the rest of what her high school career had left to offer her. Was she really able and capable to raise a child? If she was struggling now, and breaking down with every lemon life seemed to throw at her, how was she going to handle the arduous years of child rearing?

Quinn sat in the office, tapping her fingers on the chair's arm impatiently and nervously. She sat uncomfortably and kept shifting her weight from one side to the other, as if it would help with her shaking nerves. "Quinn," Quinn looked up immediately to meet the doe-eyed, red-haired counselor who seemed more on edge than her, "You're welcome to come into my office now," she held open the clear door for Quinn to enter.

Quinn gave her a quiet smile, got up and sort of wobbled through the door; pregnancy was definitely getting harder. She sat down on a chair, again trying to shift in a comfortable state. Ms. Pillsbury sat across from the seemingly scared blonde from behind her desk and smiled as she folded her hands on top of her desk. "So how can I help you today?"

Quinn looked down at her hands chewing her lip, fumbling with her hands that were already profusely sweating. This feeling of remorse began eating at her, gnawing at her insides, making her nearly throw up all over the OCD counselor's neat desk. "I -" she hesitated, looking around the room "I -" her eyes still searched the room, as if an answer laid in one of the posters in Ms. Pillsbury's office. Her eyes stopped at a blue and white Yale college flag, and her future flashed before her eyes; the answer came to her and nudged her forward, "I don't know if I want to keep this baby," she said with a shaky voice, still feeling her bad conscience kicking at the bottom of her stomach... or was that Bella?

Ms. Pillsbury stared at her with intent eyes, with her small mouth closed tightly, still trying to find guiding words to give the young girl, "Well," she started with a nod, "I think it's too late to terminate the - "

" - No," Quinn interrupted abruptly shaking her head, "No I don't want to terminate anything," she said in a lower voice.

"There are adoption options," the red head counselor thought out loud. She pulled out a pamphlet entitled 'Did Juno that Adoption is Always an Option' with an illustration of pregnant protagonist from the movie Juno, "Here you go," she handed her the pamphlet, "Do you think it's an option you'd consider?"

Quinn looked down at the pamphlet in her hands, slightly trembling at the thought of giving her baby away. She opened it and the bright subtitles caught her eyes as she scanned the words. _Can you provide for your baby? Your happiness is important too... Are you financially and emotionally stable to raise this baby? Picture your future and the baby's future... _The words were so convincing; it sounded like the right decision for both her and Bella, but how would she know Bella would be safe? She wanted Bella to be raised by a happy family; nothing like the cold, cruel household she grew up in or possibly worse. Ms. Pillsbury cleared her throat to remind Quinn of her presence and her question.

Quinn looked up, her eyelashes fluttering, blinking hard as if it helped her think better, "I don't want my child to be a foster child," she shook her head at the thought, "And I don't want to give her to someone who won't love her and I won't let her grow up in a broken home."

"There are different types of adoption you know," Ms. Pillsbury informed, "You can choose to be in the baby's life as well if you can find a family that will work with you."

"How do I do that?" Quinn asked fast, interested.

"Have you talked to your parents about this?" Ms. Pillsbury inquired.

Quinn glanced out the window, and had to swallow back her tears before answering at the fretful memory of the yelling, the slaps, the shards of glass... but then Quinn remembered Santana and the strength she gave her through coerced tears and a tight rocking embrace. She inhaled slowly through her nose to gain composure, "I don't live with my parents any longer."

"Oh," Ms. Pillsbury was slightly taken back since she knew Quinn Fabray's parents, but she wasn't entirely surprised. They always did give off an austere feeling at PTA meetings and at reward ceremonies. "I'm sorry to hear that," she added, "Who do you live with now?"

Quinn felt like an unwanted orphan, "A friend," she answered vaguely, her heart aching, not wanting her child to feel the way she did when memories of her parents throwing her out came to haunt her.

Ms. Pillsbury repositioned herself uncomfortably in her seat, scanning for useful advice in her mind, "Well if you want to look more into a private adoption, maybe your friend's parents can help you. Or I can refer you to a Law firm I know who handles that sort of stuff. Legally, I'm not allowed to help you anymore with your situation," she looked at Quinn with apologetic eyes.

Quinn's mind wandered. Maribel and Ricardo Lopez were both lawyers, and that explained their absence at home sometimes. They weren't negligent of the girls, and always made time for family time, but sometimes they worked too hard into the wee hours of the night for several days straight for important cases. This comforted Quinn since she knew if she would ask for help from them, they would work hard to find a suitable family for her daughter. "It's okay," Quinn replied after a short silence in the room, "I think I can get some help on my own."

"If you're still on the fence about this, Quinn, there is a student I can let you talk to about how adoption affected her life," Ms. Pillsbury added, remembering a girl who came in a while ago who was torn between meeting her birth mother or not.

Quinn stared at the red-headed counselor with curious green eyes, "A girl who goes here, gave up her baby?" Lima, Ohio was small enough for _everyone_ to know _everyone's _business, so this took Quinn by surprise since she did have a reign over William McKinley High School at one point, but never came across this news.

Ms. Pillsbury shook her head, "No, she was adopted and she just met her birth mother. Maybe she can tell you how it felt to grow up without knowing her birth mother."

Quinn fiddled with her fingers, unsure if she really wanted more guilt pressed onto her shoulders. She already felt like a horrible monster to not want her own child. Quinn was sure that this girl, whoever she was, would make her feel like crap to even think about giving her baby away. She was reluctant to decide, but maybe this would be important for her, so she could weigh out her final decision. Quinn nodded slowly in agreement, "I think that might help."

"Great, I'll talk to her about it and set up a meeting for you two."

* * *

That Saturday morning, Quinn sat inside of a local cafe, her hands around her hot cup of hot coco. She waited anxiously for this mystery girl to show up, anticipating for this stranger to remind her that the simple thought about giving away her baby was a huge mistake. Quinn expected that this girl would be a reminder how much of an awful person she was for being so selfish. She knew what to expect and prepared herself for this meeting to permanently seal her decision whether she was going to keep this baby or not.

"Quinn?" A sharp voice broke her thoughts and Quinn's eyes shot up to meet big brown ones. That distinct nose, those dark brown, brunette straight locks, with those leveled bangs. She knew this girl. She'd slushied her enough times with Finn and occasionally Santana and Brittany in the hallways... Well when Quinn used to be queen of the school, anyway. Rachel Berry... That was the irritating, overbearing girl's name.

"Midget?" Quinn scoffed, "What do you want?" not wanting the girl to know the reason why she was sitting in this cafe.

Rachel sat down in the seat across from her after setting her coffee down on the table, not waiting for an invite, "I'm the girl you're supposed to meet with," she whispered a little too loudly for Quinn's comfort.

Quinn let out an inaudible gasp, apology painting over her eyes, and her bitch-tone turning into a remorseful one, "I'm sorry," she murmured.

"It's okay," Rachel replied with her bright smile, her hands on her coffee.

There was an awkward silence for a while. Quinn stared out the window, listening to the bustling of the cafe and the shuffling of people's feet in and out of the door. Rachel gaze went back and forth from her held coffee on the table, to the radiant, yet sullen blonde in front of her. They were both fishing for an ice breaker.

"I'm sorry," Quinn spoke out, still staring intently outside of the large window.

"You already said -"

"For throwing slushies at you," Quinn disrupted, now looking at Rachel with true sorry eyes. Though the girl still irritated her, and Santana would probably scold her for apologizing to someone with Rachel's social standard, she still wanted to say it out loud. She still wanted Rachel Berry to know that she was human too.

Rachel was taken back for a few moments. She just stared into Quinn's green eyes, finding a soft pain that lulled on the surface. "You're doing the right thing," Rachel softly said, "This is the most selfless thing you could do. It's the best decision for your child, and it's very respectable and brave of you to even think of doing so." Rachel waited for the blonde to come out of her shell.

With a tight jaw Quinn, swallowed hard, trying to intake the girl's kind and encouraging words, "Did you meet her?"

Rachel quietly nodded, "She's a broadway star," a smile slowly formed on her face, "Shelby Corcoran is my mom. I guess it makes sense," she shrugged and let out a gentle giggle, "But I thought it over and I don't hate her for doing what she did. My entire life, her absence didn't make any sense. My Dads loved me unconditionally, don't get me wrong, but the question of _why_ _she left _always ate at me," Rachel took a deep breath, trying to calm the tremble in her voice, "But I got answers when I finally got to meet her, and it made sense to me. She had a career, a future, and she didn't want to resent me for holding her back. And she didn't want me to grow up in her lifestyle, not knowing when her next meal would be, if her career was stable enough to sustain for two. She wanted me to grow up in a happy family and she made sure it was with a loving couple, like my Dads.

"She didn't want to be part of my life up until now because she knew it would be too hard. She didn't want to change her mind and just deprive my Dads of a promise she made them. Shelby explained that it was hard on her; all the years of missing out on my life, but admitted that she's glad she did it because of good I turned out," leave it to Rachel Berry to find someway to let her confidence show a little too much. Rachel took Quinn's hand into her own. It didn't feel like an awkward gesture; in fact a comfortable ambiance sprinkled over them during Rachel's story. "If you have the intentions of giving your child to a loving home and a good family, then I think putting them up for adoption isn't the wrong thing to do."

Quinn smiled, looking at their hands together and then beamed at Rachel, squeezing back her hand, "Thank you."

* * *

That weekend, after having that conversation with Rachel, Quinn brought up the option of adoption to the Lopez'. She explained that this felt like the right decision (for the most part) and that she had done a lot of thinking, soul searching and research on it. She made it a point to make it clear that she wasn't doing the irresponsible thing, but the right thing. She never needed to prove anything to Maribel and Ricardo. They obliged immediately and within a month found a nice couple who were willing to be adoptive parents of Bella. Joshua and Mary Johnson, a nice, stable, married-couple who lived in Columbus, Ohio. They also agreed to keep the name, which was Quinn's only request. She chose not to keep in contact with the child and rejected the idea of yearly updates, knowing it would be too painful for her. However, she agreed to allow Joshua and Mary to give Bella her full name and current contact info when she turned eighteen. Papers were signed, i's were dotted and t's were crossed. By Quinn's eighth month, it was official that Bella was no longer hers.

Sometimes Quinn cried in the middle of the night, when she knew Santana was sleeping, like this night. She let her tears soak her pillow and burn the skin on her cheeks. It was a bittersweet feeling to know that she would be getting her old life slowly, but surely. She cried for the nights she knew she would inevitably miss Bella. The tears she shed were for all the first words, first steps, and first ballet recitals she was going to miss. She felt awful, but always put on a brave front because she knew it was the only way for Bella to be truly happy. She sobbed quietly, her cries and groans muffled by her covers she held over her head and the pillow she buried her face in... or so she thought.

"Quinn?" The unexpected raspy, sleepy voice caused Quinn to stiffen up. She held her breath, causing her crying to come to an abrupt stop, "Quinn, are you crying?"

Quinn heard Santana's feet lightly land on the carpet floor from her bed, meaning she was headed in her direction, _"Crap," _she thought to herself. She was so tired of breaking down in front of her best friend; she didn't want to be a burden on Santana's shoulder or conscience any more than she already was. She felt Santana sit on the side of her bed, near her stomach.

"Quinn" Santana repeated, whispering this time, she pulled the covers gently, exposing Quinn and her distraught, wet eyes. Santana immediately cupped the blonde's face and wiped away the wetness with her thumb, "What's wrong?" she said with apprehension in her voice and on her face.

"Nothing," Quinn sniffled, "hormones."

Santana looked at her with a displeased look, "Really Fabray? I've known you long enough and have been living with you these past five insufferable months to know when you're lying," she grabbed Quinn's chin with her forefinger and her thumb, making her look at her, "What's wrong?"

Quinn sniffled again, and turned her entire body in the other direction to prevent herself from facing Santana, "I told you, nothing. It's just my hormones."

Santana looked at her friend with a longingly hurt look. She wanted so badly to just fix her fragmented friend. She wanted so badly to just fix her heart. But she knew better than to try to force anything out of Quinn when she was acting so stubborn. Pregnant Quinn was especially difficult to tear down these walls she was so good at building. "Scoot over, Snorlax," Santana demanded.

Quinn smiled at Santana's Pokemon reference, "Dork," she quietly replied, while scooting over to make room for Santana's body.

Santana grabbed the covers and jumped underneath them immediately, feeling cold only in her black tank top and black boy shorts, "Shut up," she mumbled as she tried to adjust herself in the bed, attempting to get comfortable, "If you mention to anyone I know Pokemon, I will end you, Fabray."

Quinn giggled, her heart feeling a lighter than earlier, "Whatever, S."

Santana turned towards Quinn's direction, examining her blonde shoulder-length hair that flowed down her back so eloquently. She studied Quinn's slow breath as her shoulders rose up and down with each inhale and exhale. Santana bathed in the smooth, soft rhythm that was Quinn, "Quinn?" her tender voice, cracking the quietness.

Quinn turned around in response with her hand under her cheek as she laid on her pillow, "Hmm?" she replied sleepily.

Santana fixed her eyes on Quinn's drowsy ones. She never noticed before, but the way the moonlight sneaked in through the window and hit Quinn's face made her eyes a hazel color, with glints of speckled green in them, like how stars are sprinkled in the night time sky. It was a breathtaking image that Santana would never forget for the rest of her life after that night. Her heart jumped, really appreciating Quinn's subtle beauty. Her perfect cheekbones, her fair skin, her slight pink lips, and her long lashes that naturally always curled up. She put her hand on Quinn's face as if it were a natural reflex from observing her peaceful loveliness.

Santana's warm hand against her cold cheek, woke Quinn up, making her heart jolt a little in her chest. She felt Bella move in her womb to Santana's touch, like she always did as if she had a certain connection with the Latina. Like Bella knew her. Santana grazed Quinn's cheek with her thumb, making Quinn's skin quiver unexpectedly. Santana scoot in closer, unknowingly making the blonde nervous for some reason all of a sudden. Quinn felt her own hand get clammy under her cheek. Santana approached her face and she closed her eyes, not knowing what to expect. She felt a kiss on her forehead and again, her body shook and her skin tingled.

Santana pulled her face away, but only an inch or two apart from Quinn's, "You're perfect," she whispered. She softly rubbed Quinn's cheek again, waiting for her to open her beautiful hazel eyes to stare back at her. For reasons unknown to Santana, she felt her heartbeat accelerate. Being this close to Quinn was different. Their legs were barely touching, but they could feel an electricity bounce back and forth between their skin. Their stomachs were brushing up on each other and Santana could feel Bella's slow and delicate movements. They could feel each other's soft breathing, burning one another's skin.

Quinn finally opened her eyes, diving into Santana's chocolate brown eyes. With their gazes locked, they were lost in this moment where they only existed and where their bodies had molded into one and yet, they were still inches apart. Santana decided to take a chance and went forth to kiss Quinn's cheek, wanting the blonde to know the affection that was throbbing in her chest that being this close to her had caused. When she tried to pull away and lay back on the pillow, a hand that landed on the back of her neck stopped her. In less than a second Quinn lunged forward, letting their lips collide into each other. It was gentle, soft and innocent. Their lips locked and danced against one another with a rhythm that their heartbeats set. The kiss spoke a million words from each girl's heart.

_You're perfect._

_You're beautiful._

_Thank you for everything._

_You make me feel safe._

_I only want the best for you._

_I will never leave you._

_I love you..._

Since Quinn was the one who initiated the passionate action, it only felt natural that she would be the first to pull away. With a last gaze into Santana's eyes, she turned around. No words, no sounds, no explanation of what just happened. It just felt right and neither girl asked questions to something that didn't need any answers. With her back turned, Quinn could feel Santana's eyes looking at her. She held her breath, secretly waiting and wanting Santana's bronze, caramel arm to be wrapped around her. More than anything, she wanted to be one with the brunette girl again, but knowing Santana's tendency to run away from actual intimacy, made Quinn chastise herself for thinking Santana would want to spoon and cuddle. She felt Santana's body shift the bed, and she closed her eyes tight, preparing herself for the Latina's absence and for space to substitute her body. But to her surprise, she felt a warm arm around her waist and a hand on her stomach, making Bella dance gently. Or were those butterflies dancing instead? She felt Santana's nose nuzzle against her neck and the soft warm breath against her neck melted her heart into an odd sensation. Quinn opened her eyes and smiled secretly to herself, with the familiar smell of Japanese Cherry Blossom making her feel at peace. Making her feel loved. It was _perfect_. _  
_

* * *

**A/N**: hello all! hope you guys enjoyed this. had a little inspiration w/ Naya & Dianna's tweets lately ;) carefully wrote this one out and even edited it (for the most part ahem haha). **dayabieberxo **suggested to add a little Faberry friendship in it, so i took a stab at it. let me know what you guys think of it and i may or may not expand on it. please review & let me know if you're enjoying the story so far; more in store for our fav otp: quinntana ;) Bella's birth is coming soon btw! (if any of you were curious haha)


	6. Curl Up And Die Too

**A/N**: This chapter is pretty emotional (well I mean you guys should be used to that by now, but still lol) so I didn't want my author's note to ruin all the feels. Please listen to "Curl Up and Die" by Relient K before or while reading this chapter. DISCLAIMER: the lyrics embedded in this chapter are not my property; for that matter, the characters in this story aren't mine either unless otherwise acknowledged. Thanks for all of the follows, favorites and reviews guys. The support is greatly appreciated. Hope everyone is having a good 2013 so far and everyone had a good and safe holiday! Please review after reading and leave some love, it would be much appreciated!

* * *

Quinn was inhaling gallons of air and breathing out as sweat dripped on her temples. The sounds of "hee-hee-hoo" escaped her lips, just as she learned in her Lamaze class. She squeezed onto familiar hands; soft, wise ones that knew how to comfort her in this time of incredible pain and torture. There was an occasional circular back rub, kissing on the forehead or an encouraging phrase like "You can do it sweetie," or "You're doing great, honey."

It was after school on a Friday night when it happened. It wasn't like how it happens in the movies: all frantic and chaotic. It started off pretty calm, actually. Quinn was sitting at the breakfast bar on one of the stool eating sliced mangos that Mami Lopez had put out for her. She was anticipating little Bella's entrance; she knew it was coming soon. She was feeling slight pains all day during school, but it wasn't anything new since she had been feeling an indescribable ache in her body the past few days. When she hopped off of the stool to put her plate in the sink, she looked down to where she was sitting and noticed it was wet. Either she had just peed herself without knowing, or her water broke.

"Mami Lopez!" Quinn cried out, shocked, still holding her plate.

Maribel came running down the stairs to find the awestruck teen in the kitchen, holding a plate, staring at a wet stool, "Ay dios mio," she cried out loud. "Ricardo! It's time! Get the bags, call the hospital! Call Josh and Mary!" she ordered her husband who was up the stairs. Then Maribel turned her attention to Quinn, with a soft look in her eyes and a matching voice to soothe her, "Sweetie, you're gonna be okay, how are you feeling?" She walked over to the still girl, taking the plate out of her hand and setting the plate back down on the breakfast bar.

Quinn blinked hard, trying to inhale, trying to set herself in reality. This was really happening. She was about to give birth to someone who was no longer hers; who was never really hers. Panic sunk into her eyes. "I - I -" she took in a deep breath, trying to form words with her mouth; trying to form steady thoughts in her head.

"Sweetie, we're going to be alright. You're going to be great," Maribel's voice was calm and soothing.

"Santana," Quinn choked out quietly. She didn't know why, but that was the first logical thought that had finally settled in her brain, _"Where was Santana?"_

"Oh that's right, Santana is at an away game, cheering for your basketball team with the Cheerios," Maribel looked at her wrist watch; it was 5:27, "She'll be home in about an hour or so. I'll leave her a note and leave some money so she can take a cab to the hospital to meet us there," Maribel saw more fright and terror stir in the young girl's eyes, "Mija, you're going to be okay. Santana will be there, I will be there, your Papi will be there. You will be safe and in good hands." Maribel wrapped her arms around the petite, yet round girl to try to calm her nerves.

Ricardo was finally downstairs with bags they already packed for Quinn and the baby, "I called the hospital, Mary and Josh. Mary and Josh will meet us there and the hospital will be ready once we get there and fill out the paper work," he informed his wife. He put the bags down, and turned his attention to Quinn as he walked towards her, "How are you doing, Mija? Any pain?" He put a reassuring hand on Quinn's shoulder, his body language saying that he was willing to protect her no matter what.

Maribel rolled her eyes at her husband, "Dios mio corazon," she scoffed, "Men, they don't know the pain of labor, Amor!" she informed Quinn, causing her to giggle a little in response. Maribel turned to her husband, "Ricardo, the girl has been feeling pain for nine months! Of course she's in pain!"

Ricardo put his hands up as if giving up on a fight he knew he wouldn't win, "Lo siento, mi esposa, I just wanna make sure our daughter is okay," he winked at Quinn. "Speaking of daughter, what about our other one?"

"She'll be home in an hour after cheering for an away game," Maribel told Ricardo, "We'll leave her a note and some money so she can take a cab."

Ricardo nodded, "Alright then, let's vamanos!" After writing the note and leaving fifty dollars for a cab, Ricardo took Quinn's hand and Maribel held Quinn's other one. As they made their way towards the front door with a wobbling teen-mother in labor in between them, Ricardo picked up the bags up in one swoop motion.

Five hours had passed and Quinn was now in an excruciating agony. Her contractions were much closer together now and her hand nearly broke Maribel's. She screamed and groaned in an unbearable misery, "Santana!" she cried out, heaving. Her eyes squeezed out tears when she had shut them tightly due to her distress, "Where's Santana?!"

"She's outside in the lobby waiting with Papi, Mija," Maribel reassured, "She'll be in here soon," Maribel kissed the top of Quinn's head. That's all she could do for now. There was nothing else she could do except be Quinn's loving mother, and assure her that Santana was in her presence.

* * *

11:52 PM, right before midnight, a cry of a baby girl echoed through the hospital delivery room and a sigh of relief escaped from Maribel's lips and a breather of rest finally came in and out of Quinn's lungs. After they cleaned Bella up, took all her measurements and bundled her up, one of the nurse's held the baby near Quinn's bed, "Would you like to hold her?"

Maribel eyed the nurse with a suspicious look and then turned her fretful eyes to Quinn. This moment could make her or break her. Maribel held her breath for a moment.

Quinn seemed to be thinking for a minute with welled eyes, but she nodded slowly with a smile. The nurse slowly handed over Bella gently into Quinn's loving and caring arms. They fit like two puzzle pieces together and there was a spark, a flame, a connection between them when Bella held Quinn's finger with her tiny hand. Quinn pressed her lips on Bella's tiny temple and breathed all of her in. She willed herself to remember every sense that she was experiencing. The smell of the hospital, the sounds of everyone rustling, bustling about, Mami Lopez's hand on her shoulder, the soft touch of Bella's hands, and the feeling of every broken fragment of her sad heart being put back together by just one touch from one child. Quinn was taking a mental photograph of this moment. It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever experienced and single-handedly the greatest memory her mind would keep in her heart.

And the most heart-wrenching. Quinn knew she was not hers to keep; she knew this when she signed the paper work. She knew this when she had that talk with Rachel Berry; she knew it in the bottom of her heart that Bella was not hers to keep. She was too perfect for her. Bella was too far for her to grasp; too high up in the sky for her to reach. Bella was a star that Quinn was unworthy of even admiring from afar.

Quinn decided to let go of Bella painfully, but in peace, instead of having her being taken away and pried away from her fingers. Tears slowly escaped her eyes and silent muffled cries in her chest echoed through the room as she mumbled, "Here, take her to her parents," she offered the beautiful child filled with innocence and perfection to the nurse who handed Bella to her, "Please," she begged, with her lips trembling as she tasted her salty tears. Her welled eyes blurred her vision or it may have been a choice her brain subconsciously made to make the memory hazy.

It became a vague memory: the action of actually giving Bella away. The action would haunt Quinn for the rest of her life, but she her brain would never conjure up the actual memory of Bella being taken away from her hands. It was a slur of figures in the room and it was a moment that came and went. It was as if in one second Bella was safe in her arms, and the next, simply gone.

_I don't like the steps I took_  
_To get to look_  
_Into your deepest feelings_  
_I don't like the place I'm in_  
_Headspace within the hardwood and the ceiling_  
_Cause if I'm restless_  
_Then why do I_  
_I want nothing but to rest my soul_  
_And I don't get this and I know why_  
_You see sometimes things are just beyond control_

Quinn's room was empty; void of emotion, void of air. She laid in her hospital bed on her side, with her hand resting under her face, wishing that she was laying in a coffin instead. She sniffled as tears flowed slowly down onto her pillow. Quinn tried to keep her cries muffled and quiet, but it only made crying even more painful. She heard the door creak open and she immediately silenced her cries. She closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep.

"Quinn?" she heard a familiar voice that she had been searching for all this time. The sounds of sneakers scratching the hospital floor echoed throughout the room. Quinn felt the gravity of a body weigh down the bed and lie next to her.

Their bodies molded with one another, their knees curled at the same angle. Quinn felt a familiar warm hand caress her skin as it slithered its way around her and found its way to her own cold hand and entwined their fingers effortlessly. Then a warm cheek laid on top of hers and she could feel herself breathe again; inhale fresh air again, like she wasn't stuck in this damn hospital. She felt herself let go of her guard, let go of her walls, and let the river of hurt flow out into the cries she had been trying to hold in. Her lungs crashed with the ocean of anguish she let out; her body shook, suffering with misery. It was like the moment she laid eyes on that pregnancy test that proved positive; she couldn't breathe; she didn't want to. Her mouth was scratching the surface for air; she was trying to seek a purpose to breathe again and her subconscious pulled a name out that her lips rang with a quiet whimpering whisper: "Santana"

Santana gripped onto the shaking girl tighter, making sure their fingers stayed entwined together. She felt Quinn's pain. It dug deep into her own heart and rooted itself there. Santana only wanted to evict this suffering and these tears that seemed to be permanent in Quinn's life. She just wanted Quinn's sadness to disappear and vanish into thin air. She wanted Quinn to be happy. But until that moment came, until life stopped throwing lemons at Quinn Fabray, Santana Lopez would be there to try and shield her as many times as she could. Even if it meant she'd be pelted by numerous lemons as well, she was never going to leave Quinn. If it meant being with Quinn, protecting her, she didn't mind.

_But I don't mind_  
_But I'm not surprised to find that you do_  
_I'm not surprised to find that you do_  
_I know you do_  
_And I feel fine_  
_But I know the same does not apply to you_  
_I know the same does not apply to you_  
_So I guess that I'll curl up and die, too._

Quinn cried for what seemed like hours. She cried with no other words, but "Santana" and "Bella" occasionally escaping her mouth. Those were the only things her heart could manage to slur; those were the only words her heart wanted to say. They were the only things left of her aching, broken heart. The only two perfect things that could never be hers. She loved them with all of her heart and that alone explained why Quinn was never able to reach perfection herself. She was flawed in the essence that nobody ever loved her; not with their whole heart at least or at least that's what she thought. But Quinn had to give up Bella before she could ruin her peaceful beauty with her own insecure disaster. She saved one perfection; she had to save another.

Quinn felt the girl on top of her buckle; the same girl who had been carrying her all this time. The same girl that essentially saved her life and Bella's too. Her love was so strong; Santana was so strong. To have the strength and endurance to carry Quinn all this time. Quinn was bringing Santana down. Her potential, her grace, her reputation. It was all falling apart or at least would eventually fall apart because of her. She couldn't bare it and she'd be damned to see Santana's perfection broken because of her too.

_Clinging to the remnants of perfection_  
_Like most do after they break it_  
_Not knowing which directions the correct one_  
_Do I discard or remake it_

"Santana?" Quinn sniffled as she tried to calm down her cries. She was still shaking as she tried to call out to her friend.

"Hmm?" Santana replied immediately in a soft, caring voice.

"You don't have to stay," Quinn whispered, still in between heaving breaths, feeling her heart break into even tinier pieces. She didn't even know it was possible to feel _this _shattered. "You're just wasting your time. I'll be fine. I'll see you at home when Mami and Papi take me," her heart ached through closed eyes as she lied.

Santana lifted her face from Quinn's (which had been glued to it the entire time), but didn't leave their entwined hands. She only sat upright to look at Quinn, "Stop doing this, Quinn," Santana stated with a stern voice, "Stop thinking that I'm going to leave you, just because you ask. Stop thinking I'm _ever _going to leave you because I'm not. Stop pretending you're fine, because I know you're not. Just stop, Quinn, please stop," a few tears escaped from Santana's eyes, causing her mascara to run. She wiped them away quickly with her free hand with the sleeve of the gray hoodie over her Cheerios uniform.

Santana swallowed hard before continuing, as if collecting the courage to say something. Quinn was now on her her back instead of her side, looking at Santana, her green eyes anticipating her words. "Quinn, I - I -," Santana stammered, "I lo-"

Quinn shot up and sat upright with Santana immediately and pressed her other free hand against Santana's lips, "Santana don't you dare say it! Don't you fucking say it, Santana!" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. These tears stung and her voice burned her throat, "Don't say them if you don't mean them. Don't you dare say those words because you can't take them back."

_Cause if I don't know then I don't know_  
_But I may know someone that knows me more than I_  
_And if I somehow could rest this soul_  
_Maybe control could find its way back to my life_

Santana stared at hers and Quinn's hands still entwined. Even in the outburst of anger and sadness, they still managed to hold onto each other; never really wanting to let go. Her eyelashes fluttered as her down casted eyes rose to look at Quinn into her own tired eyes. They both breathed slowly, inhaling each other in, basking in each other's presence. The tension was high and made their movements slow.

"Quinn Fabray," Santana started, as she grabbed Quinn's other hand that was pressed against her lips and grasped it tightly with her free hand, still staring deeply into Quinn's eyes, their gaze never breaking, "I," she took Quinn's hand, grazed on her cheek and kissed it softly before letting it go and allowing it to cascade softly back down onto the bed. "Love," Santana leaned in closer to Quinn, her free hand now on her neck and kissed her forehead before resting her own against it, their noses touching, their lips only inches away. "You," and with that last word, they both let love in as their lips slowly ran against one another. It was a kiss searing with passion, more than their first. It a kiss with more than just a message in a bottle; it was a kiss with a love letter, with pages to fill a book. It was a kiss that sent shivers down their spines, but wrapped them up in a fiery blaze at the same time. Like a familiar road, they knew all the turns to take, the speed to go, when to speed up and when to slow down. But they never wanted to stop.

_But I don't mind_  
_You see I know that I have done all this to you_  
_To you_

_Yeah I'll curl up with you_  
_Until I die with you_  
_Yeah I'll curl up with you yeah my baby, yeah my darlin'_  
_Until I die with you_

Santana laid next to Quinn, her sneakers finally off, her nose comfortably nestled against Quinn's soft neck, breathing all of her in, inhaling all of the person she fell in love with as she slept soundly. Quinn was still awake, swimming in the warmth that was Santana's arms and love, her arms, wrapped around Santana too, her chin resting on her head and soft hair. Though her heart ached for Bella, her soul was being uplifted by Santana; by her love. Before this, she couldn't have fathomed what this would have felt like; before all this, all she really wanted was to sleep forever, to never wake up again in this treacherous torment that was her life. Now her life was about trying to move on and trying to put back the pieces of her heart with Santana's love. A smile formed on her lips as she hugged the lower girl tighter.

Quinn kissed her forehead lightly, "I love you, Santana Lopez," she whispered before falling into a deep sleep herself.


	7. Never Gonna Leave This Bed

**A/N: **This took FOREVER to write. Thought about splitting it into two chapters, but decided you guys deserve it :D Hope you all enjoy. **WARNING (Finally some M action going on)!**** This chapter contains lots and lots and extra SMUT. Also, contains drug and alcohol use.** You have been warned :)

* * *

The cool summer night's air felt fresh on Quinn's skin as she stumbled out of the loud house that belonged to a friend of a friend's. She was glad to make the decision not to wear a jacket for the night with her white sundress flowing freely, and her hair cascading down her shoulders providing enough warmth to her already hot body. The stillness of the night compared to the blaring music in the house caught Quinn by surprise, but she made a note that she enjoyed the dark silence. Alcohol was coursing through her bloodstream now, making her giggle as she tried to walk properly down the dim-litted streets. She would have fallen by now if it wasn't for Santana supporting her with their arms looped. Both girls were giddy, having a little too much to drink, but had enough sense to walk home that wasn't too far, rather than having either of them drive. When they were far enough from any sign of human-kind, their looped arms became laced fingers, both girls' hot flesh feeling a new cool sensation under their skin.

Quinn feeling a new surge of confidence under the influence, pushed Santana playfully against a tree on the side walk and teasingly let their noses brush against each other. Both of Quinn's hands lightly gripped Santana's small waist and Santana's arms laid obediently on her sides. Though it was hard to see with her slightly spinning vision, she managed to focus her eyes on Santana's anticipating gaze, those chestnut irises reminding Quinn of cups of coffee. Quinn liked coffee. She licked her own bottom lip before letting her teeth graze it, toying with Santana. Quinn kept their close proximity tight, feeling the other girl's chest rise and fall against her own.

Quinn's hands slid slowly and sensually down Santana's sides to her waist, where Quinn's fingers hooked around the belt loops of Santana's tight blue jeans, making Santana's pupils dilate with excitement. Quinn tugged not too hard, but with enough force to make Santana react. Santana closed the little distance that was between their lips and smiled into a light kiss, teasing Quinn's pink lips, her warm hands cupping Quinn's flushed cheeks. She pulled away as soon as she noticed Quinn beginning to kiss with a little more vigor.

"Hey that wasn't nice," Quinn whined, but with a smile, their lips still dangerously close to each other.

Santana's arms were now around Quinn's neck, "You should know I'm not very nice," Santana eyed Quinn's cleavage, the alcohol in her system making her unashamed of staring, "You know I'm the head bitch in charge."

Quinn's hands roamed from Santana's belt loops, back up, rubbing Santana's hard flat abs until she reached her destination: her firm supple breasts. She massaged them over Santana's black tank top, resulting in sensuous moans from Santana. Quinn bit her bottom lip, her insatiable appetite for Santana taking over, the alcohol creating a sort of animalistic character in her. "You're _my_ bitch," she growled, then dove into Santana's neck, sucking and nibbling on it with the right pressure to leave her mark.

Santana giggled and groaned at the same time, the taste of alcohol and Quinn still on her tongue. Though it was nearly three in the morning in Lima, Ohio and the little town would probably have no civilians out at this time, the thought of still having the slightest chance of getting caught was such a turn on. Santana tossed her head back against the tree with her arms up, gripping the trunk, giving Quinn more room to have her way. Quinn took this chance to take her bare leg and force Santana to spread hers. With Quinn's leg in between hers, Santana began to gyrate against her creamy skin, the friction making her slightly weak in the knees. She grabbed onto Quinn's hair immediately, slightly pulling it as she moaned with more contact. Quinn then took this chance to wrap Santana's full lips in an open mouthed kiss, now impaling herself onto Santana's leg, giving herself pleasure as well. They broke away from the kiss, Quinn's forehead resting against Santana's, their heavy breathing being the only carnal sound coming from both girls as they became each other's source of pleasure. When they both came undone, their movements came to a slow end and a heavy sigh escaped their lungs, the sting of alcohol still present in their throats.

Quinn's forehead, now slightly damp with sweat was still connected to Santana's. She gave her a quick peck on the lips before pulling away slowly smiling. She grabbed her hand again and entwined their fingers leading an exhausted Santana away from the tree. They danced to the summer night sounds of the streets the rest of the way home which was only a few blocks away, occasionally singing to each other. They sloppily staggered into the dark home that was void of Santana's parents who had went on a vacation to Europe in the middle of June for their 20th anniversary. It was now July 4th and after a night of gorgeous fireworks, dancing, secretly making out in the pool house at the party, and drinking a little too much vodka, Santana and Quinn were ready to keep the night going with their own fireworks. They hurriedly ran up the stairs to their room, slightly tripping along the way, still a little woozy and a little too excited.

Santana and Quinn rushed into their room. As soon as they stepped through the door way, they found each other's lips, the need to taste each other. Santana held Quinn by her waist, navigating themselves towards the bed. Once Santana felt Quinn come to a halt, she knew it meant they arrived to what they were searching for in the dark and playfully shoved Quinn down. She grabbed the bottom of her black tank top, and stripped it off of her with ease, tossing it somewhere random on the floor, her eyes never leaving Quinn's as Quinn undid her dress as well and tossed it aside. Santana then unbuttoned and unzipped her pants with speed, quickly disposing of them somewhere in the dark as well. Once properly in their underwear, Santana went back to tasting Quinn, desperate to taste all of her.

Santana was on top of Quinn, her arms next to Quinn's head, propping herself up. She made a slow advance down to Quinn's neck, reveling in her soft milky skin, occasionally scraping her teeth, and suckling lightly, making small marks along the way. Hearing her moan quietly, Santana quickly undid Quinn's bra swiftly and tossed to the side. She dove into her breast, fondling one nipple and taking the other in her mouth, applying pressure with her tongue, making small circular motions. Quinn was writhing now at this burning sensation and she bucked her hips up.

"Santana!" she screamed as she shut her eyes tight and wove her fingers through Santana's raven black hair.

Santana smirked at Quinn's loudness and desperation for contact. She took her time on Quinn's breasts, alternating sides, and varying her speed of touch and kisses on her skin. Quinn's skin was on fire and her core was on burning, dripping wet with desire. She needed Santana to touch her, to taste her.

Santana knew Quinn's body too well by now and advanced down, while leaving trails of kisses, her tongue occasionally brushing up against Quinn's skin. Her legs were spread, ready for Santana, waiting for her, wanting her. When she got to the hem of Quinn's black underwear, she teased Quinn some more. Santana traced her finger down Quinn's swollen folds, the fabric still hot against her skin.

"Mmm," Santana hummed licking her lips, "so wet."

Santana observed Quinn gripping onto the bedsheets, her back slightly arched and her body quivering lightly from Santana's touch and the sound of lust in her voice. It made Santana's core ache with want as well as she began to feel a familiar throb between her legs. But she tried to ignore it as best as she could; this was about pleasuring Quinn. She dragged her tongue down the path her finger took, and applied a forceful pressure when she reached Quinn's sensitive, but hardened nub.

"Santana, stop being a fucking tease!" Quinn demanded, her eyes involuntarily rolling to the back of her head at Santana's touch.

With this cue, Santana nearly ripped off Quinn's panties. Before obliging to Quinn's demands, she kissed her wet inner thighs. Though Santana was drunk and was sweating with lust by now, she never forgot to remind Quinn in moments like these why she touched her this way. Why it felt so right for their skin to be bare against one another. With a quick change of character from lustrous seducer, to a caring lover, Santana laid her cheek lightly on Quinn's lower stomach for a quick moment before turning her gaze to Quinn's eyes.

"I love you," she said sweetly.

Despite her frustrations at the moment, Quinn found herself smiling at the sweet gesture, "I love you too."

Santana moved back up, seemingly changing her mind about her plans for Quinn's body. When she was hovering above Quinn again, she cupped her face with the one hand that wasn't keeping her up and pulled her into a passionate kiss, their lips molding into each other lovingly. While she distracted Quinn with her mouth, her hand sneakily made it's way down again, finding Quinn's wetness. Santana's single finger entered with ease, as she felt Quinn's walls tighten. Quinn's eyes shot open in pleasure and in surprise. She smiled into their kiss before pulling away a little.

"Sneaky," Quinn managed to say, her mind getting more intoxicated as Santana began to set a rhythm inside of her.

Santana replied with a smirk before going in for a kiss again. As her lips danced with Quinn's, she pumped in and out of her slowly, gathering her wetness. Then she pulled her finger out and slid it up to Quinn's throbbing center. Quinn reacted as she canted her hips up to Santana's touch. Needing air she pulled away from Santana's lips and gasped as if she was drowning.

"God, Santana!" Quinn screamed, moving against Santana's finger, "Please, more," she whined, splitting her legs farther apart, as she turned to look at Santana and grabbed the side of her neck before pulling her in a forceful kiss.

Santana responded, kissing back, sucking Quinn's tongue occasionally and slipping her own against it. She easily added another finger, pumping faster, her wrist beginning to ache. She ignored the pain, as she focused on Quinn's erratic breathing and sexy moans. Santana nibbled on the bottom of Quinn's ear, before whispering, "I love making love to you."

Quinn was thrashing now, all of her muscles tightening, her toes curling, her hands gripping on anything they could reach. She nearly lost it when Santana pulled out of her unexpectedly.

"Santana, what the - " but before Quinn could finish cursing Santana, she felt her core clash against Santana's wet skin, their centers colliding, their legs weaved in a comfortable position. She didn't know when Santana had lost her underwear and quite frankly she didn't care. Her mind was spinning and she was losing all control. She slammed her head against the pillow, "FUCK! SO GOOD."

Santana didn't hear anything; she couldn't see anything. All she could do was _feel_. She could feel the heat rising from Quinn's skin. She could feel the sweat that clung onto their bare bodies. She could feel Quinn's uneven breathing. She could feel them becoming one.

It didn't take long or a lot of grinding for both girls to come undone. Quinn came first and the way she screamed Santana's name made the Latina come quickly after. Both girls were panting, desperate for air, their muscles aching, their bodies exhausted. Santana rested her forehead against Quinn's collar bone, their bodies still entangled in a steaming, hot mess. When Santana finally caught her breath, she kissed Quinn between her shoulder and neck and collapsed next to her.

Santana usually wasn't the first to initiate a cuddle session after sex. It had become a habit during high school with all her other partners that one person just left the room after the deed was done. At first it bothered Quinn, but she was accustomed to the ritual by now. She turned on her left side and snaked her smooth arm grazing over Santana's hard abs and around her waist, her nose nuzzled against Santana's neck.

"Sleep," Santana ordered. She knew Quinn. No matter how worn out she was, the small blonde girl could never find rest easy. Memories haunted her when she closed her eyes, so she'd much rather keep them open.

"I will," Quinn lied, kissing Santana's shoulder.

"Liar."

"Sleep," Quinn quipped.

Santana sighed in defeat and turned on her left side as well, backing into Quinn, allowing their bodies to curl into one another.

"I love you," Quinn chirped.

"I love you too," Santana murmured sleepily, placing her hand on top of Quinn's and tangling their fingers together.

Quinn laid there with Santana for a while, reveling in her love. Her lips laid gently against Santana's back, feeling her breathe air in and out of her lungs. She could feel herself sobering up as the sun began to rise. This made her panic as darkness approached her soul with nothing to ease the pain. She needed something to evade her sadness and to escape the ghosts of her past. Quinn made sure to make her movements slow as she separated herself from Santana and gently made her way off of the bed. Before moving away from the bed, she pulled over the covers that ended up at the end of the bed, over Santana's body. She then tip-toed lightly on the carpet floor, grabbing a random large plain gray sweater and a pair of clean pink underwear lying on the bed she used to sleep on when she was pregnant. She had been sharing Santana's bed and neither have slept on the other mattress ever since they came back from the hospital, using it as a large shelf to hold clean laundry both girls were too lazy to put away.

Quinn began looking for her shoe that she wore the night before. "Ahah!" she whispered as she found the black flat under the bed.

Quinn grabbed it with haste and felt for something at the end of the shoe. She pulled out a tiny clear ziplock bag, that couldn't have been bigger than a quarter. It was filled with a white, grainy substance. She sat on the floor, eyeing Santana on the bed, making sure she wasn't awake. Worried that the other girl would wake up soon, Quinn nervously and hastily opened the small bag and laid the substance on top of the knuckle of her pointer finger on her balled up fist. She quickly brought her fist up to her nose and inhaled the substance hurriedly. She let it flow through her and waited for the sensation she longed for to wash over her body.

* * *

Santana woke up, yawning, lazily stretching her limbs on her back. She realized she woke up to a vacant bed when she didn't feel Quinn's body next to hers. She should've known since the comforter on top of her was evidence enough that the blonde left her alone in bed. Santana rubbed her eyes, before settling them on a figure standing in front of the window slightly opposite of her. The sun was shining, and she was glad that the silhouette in front of her was somewhat blocking the menacing light. Her head was sort of throbbing from the night before. After one final stretch on the bed, she threw the covers off of her, exposing her only in her bra. She walked over to her dresser and pulled out a pair of red cotton shorts, sliding them over her skin slowly, her body still a tad bit sore. She sauntered over to the other person, still shirtless and wrapped her arms around them from behind.

"Good morning, sunshine," she rested her chin on Quinn's shoulder, her temple against her jaw.

Quinn's folded arms became undone as she placed her hands over Santana's, "You mean good afternoon," she said in a sort of zombie-manner.

Santana looked at the clock hanging on the wall above their bed. It was nearly four o'clock in the afternoon. "You didn't sleep," Santana accused, with a hint of concern and a little anger evident in her voice.

Quinn kissed Santana's temple that was against her jaw, "I'm sorry."

Santana sighed and pulled away from behind Quinn, but grabbed her hand, "Come on, I'll sing you a lullaby."

Santana led her back to the bed and made her lay down under the covers. Quinn didn't protest. She was actually quite tired, the effects of what she snorted about twelve hours ago beginning to dissolve away and make her weak. Her eyes were blood shot red and Santana gazed at her with concern, sitting next to her in bed, caressing Quinn's pale cheek with her thumb. Quinn resembled a ghost.

"Are you getting sick?" Santana asked, with a worried look.

"Sick of you?" Quinn quirked, her voice tired and a little raspy, "Never." Santana rolled her eyes at the corny, but cute comment. She held the back of her hand against Quinn's forehead to make sure she wasn't feverish. "You know I'm always hot for you," Quinn giggled at her own joke.

Santana gave her a deadpan look, "You need rest, water and I bet you haven't eaten anything either," she knew her best friend all too well. Quinn only gave a weak smile in return, her eyes blinking sleepily, the black bags under them prevalent. "And I know you've been smoking again," Santana confronted. She had smelled the tobacco on Quinn's skin and her hair when she approached her at the window.

Unfortunately since Bella's birth, the blonde took up the unhealthy habit secretly. Santana didn't even know how she got her first pack of cigarettes being underage and all. She hated the bad habit and pleaded the pale girl to quit on more than one occasion, but on nights where her nightmares tended to devour Quinn's heart, Santana knew that she would sneak away from bed to find her way back to its subtle addiction. It was a distraction and a comfort that eased Quinn's restless mind at night when Santana's sleeping body couldn't.

Since Bella's birth, the girls had changed, along with their relationship. Now they clung onto each other, knowing each other's habit and tendencies. Knowing every curve and dip of each other's bodies, after numerous nights of molding into one. They had an intuitiveness about each other. Not that it was never there before, but now they made it known; they were aware of the pitches of their voices. Aware of the breathing patterns in each other. Aware of every scar on each other's body. It only made lying to each other even harder. Quinn lied to Santana more than the other way around. She always had to ensure the anxious Latina that she was okay or at least she was going to be okay. And at times, when Quinn knew there was no use of wasting her breath because Santana could read her like a book in her times of occasional dishonesty, she simply sat with her in silence. She sat in silence now, guiltily gazing back at Santana, her eyes begging for forgiveness.

Santana heaved a sigh, feeling weak when Quinn looked so frail this way. She stroked Quinn's hair back, "I'll be right back," she kissed her on the forehead and left the room quickly. It felt like hours to Quinn when Santana left her side. Trying to keep her eyes open, not wanting her dreams to mix in with her memories, without Santana by her side.

Santana came back hurriedly with a tall glass of water and a blueberry muffin. She sat back down next to Quinn, "Here," she handed Quinn the glass of water, setting the muffin down on the bedside.

Quinn obediently sat up in bed, not arguing, and drank the water. To her surprise she was actually quite thirsty and drank the entire glass. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and placed the glass down next to the muffin. She stared at Santana, waiting for more instruction.

"Eat."

Quinn gave her a painful look, "Do I have to?"

Santana grabbed the muffin from the stand and broke off of a piece and held it against Quinn's pink lips, "Eat."

Quinn breathed out heavily and looked at Santana displeasingly, but obliged to her command. She opened her mouth slightly, letting Santana feed her. "I'd rather be eating you," she murmured with a drained voice.

Santana shook her head and giggled, "Just a couple more pieces, okay?" After a few more bites of the muffin, Quinn shook her head when she was too tired to chew. Santana respected her limits and let her lie down.

"My lullaby," Quinn fussed in a childlike manner.

Santana smiled, adoring Quinn and her beauty, even in her times of looking fragile. She hopped off of the bed and walked to her closet, grabbing a guitar. No one, except for Quinn and her parents really knew Santana's hidden talent and love for music and its instruments. Music always spoke when she couldn't form the right words in her head. Music always made sense of everything. Music never failed her.

She sat back on the edge of the bed, still shirtless only in her black bra and red shorts. The smooth wood against her skin felt good and welded easily against her body. While tuning the guitar absentmindedly, she pointed a finger at Quinn quickly, "This is for all the pretty ladies out there," she winked, continuing to pluck and get the right tune. Quinn laughed softly, while at the same time admiring Santana's elegance.

She loved Santana for so many reasons. One of which was her vulnerable side that she only exposed at home with her. In moments like these, Quinn fell more in love with Santana. But the more she fell into this heavenly bliss, the more knots formed in her stomach as she felt her insides tearing apart from hiding guilty pleasures from Santana. Hiding the truth from someone who was so willing to let her in. The guilt was eating at her, but didn't want to impose any more weight onto Santana's shoulders. She was scared of disappointing the one person who loved her unconditionally. The one person who loved her beyond her flaws. The one person who carried her when she was too weak to stand on her own. Quinn didn't want to lose her, but she was beginning to lose herself with this battle against the insecurities and regrets that consumed her wholly.

Santana snapped Quinn out of her thoughts as she began to strum the guitar and began to sing.

_"You push me_  
_I don't have the strength to_  
_Resist or control you_  
_Take me down, take me down_

_You hurt me_  
_But do I deserve this?_  
_You make me so nervous_  
_Calm me down, calm me down"_

Santana looked into Quinn's hazel-green eyes that were focused on her as well. She wanted Quinn to not only hear the words she was singing to her, but understand them. She needed Quinn to know how she made her feel. No matter how many times Santana reassured Quinn that she would never leave, she could still feel it on Quinn's skin and touch that the blonde had constant a fear of her sudden absence from her life. She sang the following words with more passion and more emphasis, hoping Quinn was absorbing the emotion Santana was pouring out.

"_Wake you up_  
_In the middle of the night to say_  
_I will never walk away again_  
_I'm never gonna leave this bed, oh_

_So come here_  
_And never leave this place_  
_Perfection of your face_  
_Slows me down, slows me down_"

As Santana's hands played the guitar, her words allowed both Quinn and herself to unconsciously float into the same memory they shared together. A memory that never left their minds or their hearts and never will. The first time they became naked with one another in more ways than one.

* * *

It had been about a month and a half since Quinn was in the hospital and Santana's parents just left for their vacation, trusting the girls alone with the house. Santana and Quinn sat at the opposite ends of the bed, lost in their own worlds. Quinn was busy reading a book - or at least trying to - while Santana was giggling and smiling as she texted on her phone, laying on her stomach. Quinn couldn't help but feel a little resentment towards whoever was making Santana so jolly at the moment.

"What's so funny?" Quinn asked, looking at Santana's back, her eyes hovering a little above her book.

"Brittany is telling me about how Lord Tubbington got stuck in the cat door at home and how she's trying to use lard to push him out," Santana pushed herself up from her position and crawled over next to Quinn, lying on her chest next to her there, "Look, she sent me a picture."

Quinn put her book down on her lap and grabbed the phone Santana offered. A smile formed across her lips as she looked at the picture of a gray cat's rather large butt with heaps of lard around it. She laughed out loud, giving Santana a warm feeling.

"How's that book of yours?" Santana inquired, looking at the cover that read, _Catcher in the Rye_.

"I like it," Quinn answered, though she could barely stay focused on the first chapter, her eyes busy appreciating Santana's backside.

"I like you," Santana smiled, lifting her head to kiss Quinn.

Quinn kissed back, holding Santana's face. She pulled away, and laid next to Santana holding a gaze between them, content and comfortable next to her. She grabbed Santana's hand and began fiddling with her pinky, "You haven't brought a guest in since Mami and Papi left," Quinn inquired, shifting her gaze to their hands.

"What do you mean?" Santana replied, with a brow lifted.

"The green scrunchie hasn't made an appearance on our doorknob in a while," Quinn caressed Santana's arm, making the tan girl shiver slightly.

"Why would I need to use the green scrunchie anymore?" Santana replied, her hand now around Quinn's waist.

Quinn shrugged and began toying with the collar of Santana's v-neck white shirt, "Get your rocks off. You used to do it so often before."

"Really, Quinn?" Santana looked at her with a displeased look, "_Get my rocks off_?" she mocked and laughed, "Your Christian is showing."

Quinn lightly blushed and hit Santana lightly on her shoulder, "Shut up," she murmured against Santana's lips before pulling in for a kiss.

Santana's hand roamed from Quinn's waist to her firm ass and she pulled away from the kiss, "The only guest I want in my bed from now on, is you," she admitted, "I haven't had anyone else since our first kiss."

Quinn quirked an eyebrow as a warm sensation settled on top of her skin and embraced her heart, "Why not?" she was curious.

"Because I love you," Santana replied naturally. Though it had been a while and Santana found it hard to avert her eyes on occasion and resist temptation, she was willing to wait for Quinn, however long it took because she meant something to her. She looked deeply into those bright green eyes that had hints of hazel swimming in them and confessed to her, "I'm yours."

Quinn never felt anything like this. This burning sensation wrapping the insides of her chest, the tickling sensation rising on her skin, heat surfacing her cheeks. She never imagined love like this. She thought she felt it for Finn, but this feeling she held in her heart for Santana was different. It was so foreign, yet familiar. Like a rose bud that had always been there, but only now started blooming.

Quinn wrapped her lips around Santana's and cupped her face lovingly. Santana tugged her closer, pulling her in by her waist, their breasts hard against each other. They could feel each other's labored breaths through the kisses, their tongues and teeth clashing at the right times. At some point during the heated kiss, Santana was on top and her hands began to search for any type of contact. She found Quinn's hands, tangled them with her own and pinned them over her head, smirking into the kiss at Quinn's submissiveness. Santana pulled away slowly, straddling the small girl below her, and still holding Quinn's hands above her head.

Quinn craved more contact; craved her skin against her own; craved Santana's body into hers. She stared into Santana's dilated pupils and beautiful brown eyes, "Santana," it was barely a whisper, "I'm yours," she admitted a little louder, "I love you."

Santana dove into Quinn's neck, gliding her tongue down to her collar bone and began sucking there, in hopes of making a small mark of territory. Quinn reacted by pushing her hips up against Santana's body. "Santana, please," Quinn whimpered.

Santana lifted her body up away from Quinn and looked at her directly, "Are you sure you're ready?" Santana said concerned.

Quinn nodded with full assurance. This felt more right and more natural than anything else in her life. Santana was quick to continue and grabbed the bottom of her white v-neck and yanked it over her head tossing it aside. She then slid her black shorts off as fast as she could and threw them in some random direction as well. Quinn ran her hands all over Santana's abs, treasuring them with every touch. Then she made her way to the hem of Santana's underwear and slid them off of her for her as well. While Santana allowed Quinn to help, she unclasped her bra and let it drop somewhere on the floor. She advanced back to Quinn on the bed and kissed her sloppily, groping her breasts as well. They were still quite firm from the pregnancy.

Quinn moaned to the touch, canting her hips up, seeking contact from anything. She found Santana's leg against her core, pressing hard against her and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. Santana began to shower her with pecks of kisses from her cheek to her neck, to her shoulders in random order, while tugging at her clothes. Quinn frowned at the loss of contact as Santana stripped her, but found Santana's fervor and aggressiveness extremely sexy. First Quinn's red pajama pants were the first to go, then her bright green cotton boy shorts. Santana nearly ripped off her shirt and almost chewed off her bra.

Once they were naked, Santana took her time with the rest. She peppered Quinn's skin with kisses, a few suckles and a sprinkle of bite marks. Quinn reveled in her touch and dug her short nails into Santana's skin; it didn't matter what part of her body, Quinn just needed to grip onto something, nearly passing out from this contact alone. Santana's hands were gentle, traveling across Quinn's body, as if mapping out and memorizing a new territory. She softly scratched down Quinn's taut stomach that only had a few stretch marks from the pregnancy, but Santana loved these marks. They were marks of true beauty; evidence of life given. She kissed each and every one of the markings before reaching Quinn's inner thighs. Quinn was only a little scared, but trusted Santana entirely, melting into a comfort she never knew with anyone else.

Santana licked her lips, as her eyes witnessed Quinn's readiness for her. She ran her tongue slowly through Quinn's slick folds, earning a yelp from Quinn's voice, her upper body shooting up from the bed. She grabbed Santana's hair in bliss, her breathing short and quick, her body slightly pushing harder against Santana's beautiful lips. Santana found Quinn's engorged nub and applied wet, hot pressure against it, moving it up and down, occasionally in little circles, adjusting speed depending on Quinn's noises and breathing. Santana savored the feeling of Quinn throbbing against her tongue and it drove her mad. She could feel her hair nearly being pulled out of her scalp, so she put in a finger into Quinn, feeling her walls clench around it. Santana pumped at an easy pace and it didn't take long for Quinn to come over the edge.

"San - " that's all Quinn could manage to get out before screaming at the top of her lungs, her orgasm taking over her body as she convulsed on the bed, every single muscle tightening.

When she finally came down from her high, she collapsed back onto the bed, releasing her hands from Santana's head, her breathing still irregular. Santana was immediately next to her, pressing pecks of kisses on her cheek and shoulder, while drawing lazy circles on Quinn's stomach. Quinn was so lost after her high that she hadn't even realized Santana's actions, until Santana's words brought her back to earth, "I love you," she mumbled against her jawline after kissing it.

Before Santana knew it, Quinn rolled on top of her, kissing her with fervor, her hand trailing down to Santana's center that was already soaking wet. Santana spread her legs wider, giving Quinn easier access. Before diving into Santana's entrance, Quinn slid her finger up and down Santana's drenched core, as she bit down on her lip.

"Fucking tease," Santana groaned, her words slightly muffled by Quinn's mouth.

Quinn smirked, and slipped in two fingers into Santana with ease. Santana shook, caught off guard by Quinn's sudden action. "Where d-did y-y-you lea-rn th-th-th-at!" Santana managed to say in between breaths and short gasps at this blissful sensation Quinn was causing.

Quinn licked the bottom of Santana's ear and nibbled it before whispering seductively, "I'm a quick learner," she pushed in and out of Santana at a quicker pace, feeling her walls beginning to cave, "I learned from the best," she husked. A few more thrusts and Quinn could feel Santana close.

"I love you Santana," she said firmly, "I love you so much, Santana Lopez."

"OH GOD!" Santana cried out, clutching onto Quinn's arm that had the same hand inside of her. She felt a fiery heat wash over her and she scratched at anything (bed or body) that she could reach. Santana felt weak, sweat all over her body, her lungs having a hard time regulating her breathing. Now Quinn was next to her, returning kisses and nibbles on Santana's skin.

They had fallen asleep together that night. The first and possibly only time Quinn found sleep easy to wash over her. Their bodies were bare, no covers hiding them from the moonlight that cascaded through the blinds of the windows. Their bodies were one, Quinn's arm tightly around Santana's waist, Santana's arm on top of that arm, holding Quinn's hand, and their legs curving into each other in a comfortable position. They were each other's; they were together; they were one.

* * *

"_So fall down_  
_I need you to trust me_  
_Go easy, don't rush me_  
_Help me out, why don't you help me out?_

_Wake you up_  
_In the middle of the night to say_  
_I will never walk away again_  
_I'm never gonna leave this bed, oh_

_You say 'Go, it isn't working'_  
_And I say 'No, it isn't perfect'_  
_So I stay instead_  
_I'm never gonna leave this bed_"

Santana and Quinn finally floated back to reality, lazy smiles on their faces as Santana sang and as Quinn began to drift off into sleep. But Quinn fought her eye lids from closing. She wanted to stay like this with Santana forever. She wanted to be with her for a lifetime and an eternity. Quinn understood the words coming from the girl in front of her. She understood Santana's vigor and determination to save her from herself and her insecurities. Santana was so strong, but was Quinn strong enough for her?

Quinn was broken; she'd been broken before Bella even existed in her. She was shards of pieces that could cut anyone. And yet, there was one person who showed consistency in her life and never failed to know when she was falling apart. Santana was brave enough for the both of them to glue her back together and make her whole again, but every time Santana tried to put the pieces back together, it seemed that Quinn would hide some vital parts to the puzzle. Things just got so much harder since she lost Bella. She lost perfection. She lost a life that was hers. And now, Quinn didn't know if she still wanted her own life to live.

_"Take it, take it all_  
_Take all that I have_  
_I'd give it all away just to get you back_

_And fake it, fake it all_  
_Take what I can get_

_Knockin' so loud_  
_Can you hear me yet_  
_Try to stay awake but you can't forget"_

Santana watched the girl in front of her, knowing that Quinn was constantly fighting a battle within herself. Aware that Quinn had trouble finding perfection in herself. Aware that Quinn had trouble accepting love and that's why Santana tried to say it to her as frequently as possible. Hoping to embed love into the girls mind and etch it on her skin. Santana wanted Quinn to know the depths of her love, but more than anything, Santana wanted Quinn to stop hurting. She wanted Quinn to stop chasing perfection. She wanted Quinn to stop crying. Santana wanted to take away the nightmares and the insufferable pain she suffered on a daily basis. She just wanted to lift up this huge boulder from her shoulders and let her fly free. Quinn deserved to fly; Quinn deserved to be free of this torture.

_"Wake you up_  
_In the middle of the night to say_  
_I will never walk away again_  
_I'm never gonna leave this bed, oh_

_You say 'Go, it isn't working'_  
_And I say 'No, it isn't perfect'_  
_So I stay instead_  
_I'm never gonna leave this bed, ooh"_


	8. Give Me Love

**A/N: **It's been a while! Fluff in the beginning; then the opposite towards the end. _**PLEASE LISTEN/SEARCH ON YOUTUBE to "Give Me Love" COVERED BY KURT AND MAX**_** SCHNEIDER**; the song (and that particular cover) has a special meaning to this chapter. I've been listening to it non-stop and was my inspiration to get this done. Finishing this at 4:21AM; worked hard on this! Thank you lots for the continued support, follows, reviews, favorites etc. Love and appreciate all you guys :) HAPPY EASTER!

_I don't own any of the characters or the lyrics used in this entire story; simply the idea and the story being told is mine (which I DON'T plan on making any profit from)._

PS: if any of you were wondering, the song in the previous chapter was "Never Gonna Leave This Bed" (had the acoustic version in mind) By Maroon 5

**A/N WARNING: **Contains hints of self-hurt, alcohol & drug use. _**PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THESE TOPICS AND IF THEY MAY CAUSE A TRIGGER. **_

* * *

"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Santana asked for a millionth time, worried and scared to leave Quinn alone.

Santana's uncle in California managed to get in a favor with the major record label he worked with and was able to get Santana to sing and take some pointers with some of the biggest producers. Santana's uncle was willing to fly her out to Los Angeles, to get mentored and allow her to expand her talents. It was an opportunity of a lifetime and though it was Santana's dream come true to be able to escape the little-nothing town of Lima, Ohio, she didn't want to leave Quinn behind.

"I'm going to be fine, Santana. Stop worrying about me," Quinn grabbed her hands, as she looked up at the girl who was standing in front of her, where Quinn was sitting on the bed, "I have to talk to my parents anyway, remember?"

Santana sighed and squeezed Quinn's hands in return, "Are you positive? I really don't have to go if - " Santana was cut off by Quinn's quick retort.

"No!" Quinn exclaimed. She stood up, and kissed the slightly shorter girl in front of her on the forehead for reassurance as their hands were still clasped together. She looked Santana deeply in the eyes, "N-O, Santana Lopez. I'm going to be fine, and you're going to fly out to Los Angeles and buy me a keychain or whatever and tell me how amazing it is and make future plans for us."

Santana looked into Quinn's eyes and felt warmth in her heart and love creep up her skin when she heard _future plans for us_. Though she still worried about leaving the blonde alone, especially to talk to her parents all by herself, she felt a little relieved at Quinn's consistent push for her to go. She believed in her and that made Santana feel like she was capable of doing anything; even capable of making Quinn's hurt go away.

Santana gave Quinn a light peck on the lips, "You're the best," she hummed.

"You only deserve the best," Quinn kissed her back, but she lingered a little while longer on Santana's full lips, "I'm going to miss you tons, though," she admitted as they parted from each other's faces.

"I'll call everyday and - " Santana again was cut off by Quinn.

"I don't think you should call, San," Quinn began, avoiding looking into Santana's eyes all of a sudden, "I kind of need to just focus on my family and getting them back."

"_But they don't deserve to have you back,_" Santana thought secretly as a pained look washed over her face as she stared at Quinn's lowered eyes. Instead of saying what she wanted to say, she bit her tongue, not wanting to upset Quinn before she left, "Okay," was all she said, needing to be understanding.

"Hey, we'll be okay. You'll only be there for a week and we'll still have a full week alone before cheer camp and before Mami and Papi come back," Quinn lifted Santana's chin to look her in the eyes. Quinn hated to see her so sad and quiet. She'd rather have the Santana who liked to put up fights and argue. She knew that Santana sometimes held back for her, but sometimes Quinn wished that she wouldn't do it so often.

Santana sadly sighed, her shoulders rising and falling lazily. A week without Quinn was already hard enough, but to not even be able to talk to her? Santana's heart was already beginning to miss her touch, her voice, and her arm around her waist at night. She couldn't help, but be sad and glum at this time, when her flight for Los Angeles would be the next morning and that meant leaving Quinn soon.

"Can you just try to fit in my suitcase," Santana whined, she walked away from Quinn and plopped herself on the bed dramatically, face first and buried her head into one of the fluffy pillows.

Quinn giggled and shook her head lightly. She gently laid down next to Santana and laid on her side as her left arm propped her head up, "Stop being such a baby," Quinn teased as she poked at the side of Santana's stomach.

Santana replied by turning her face to look at Quinn, but her body still stayed in its position against the bed, "No one's gonna hug me at night, or say good morning, or make the morning pot of coffee for me when I wanna sleep in or - " a pillow hit her face softly, "- Hey!"

Quinn grabbed the pillow that she threw at Santana's face, "Stop being such a cheeseball-baby!"

Though Quinn loved this side of Santana - the sweet, loving and caring Santana - Quinn realized that this summer was making Santana soft. She didn't mind it; she loved it actually, but she loved Santana more. Quinn realized that this relationship and their love was holding Santana back. It was holding Santana back from arguing and being quick-witted like she usually was. It was holding Santana back from her ambitions and dreams. It was holding Santana back from her capabilities and potential. Quinn was holding Santana back and it was another example of how Quinn was capable of fucking up perfection. Her guilt made her stomach turn inside out.

"But I'm _your_ cheeseball-baby," Santana replied playfully in a soft voice.

Quinn's lips couldn't help, but form a smile at the sweet girl she saw before her. The sweet girl no one else ever got to see; it was her own private show of a secret Santana. Quinn stared into Santana's coffee colored eyes and got lost in them; she got lost into her thoughts. She wondered how long this would last; this beautiful bliss between her and Santana. Then Quinn's mind wandered to somewhere she was constantly trying to avoid. Her mind wandered to Bella's eyes and butterflies settled in her stomach. Quinn remembered the warm affection that filled her bloodstream and ran throughout her body. Quinn recollected vividly her heartbeat coming to a slow speed when her skin collided with Bella for the first time and how her heart felt full at the simple gesture. She recalled how she didn't feel broken for once and how life's complications became simple to understand with just one grip of a tiny finger that belonged to her. And then Quinn's fond memory came to a crashing halt when the nightmare that was reality came piercing through her mind. Sadness immediately glazed over her eyes and the small curve of her lips that was a small smile vanished. Bella's absence was a constant reminder of the pain and hollow soul Quinn was lugging around in her chest. She tore her eyes away from Santana's and turned around to face away from her.

"Hey," Santana said softly, noticing Quinn's sudden mood change. She reached out her hand and placed it on Quinn's shoulder, "What's wrong?" Santana's brow was furrowed, curious and confused as to why Quinn had all of a sudden became cold and distant.

Quinn stared into nothingness, while the consistent sorrow in her life came storming into her heart again. She sighed, the sad look still on her face, and Santana not being able to see it, "Nothing," she said with a small voice, "I'm just going to miss you, that's all," she lied.

Santana shifted her body closer and put her arm around Quinn's waist tightly. Moments like this were rare from Santana, even if Quinn noticed her getting "softer", Santana barely ever started cuddling sessions. It was simply not in her nature to do so and it was hard for her to learn how to initiate such a simple notion of love, such as cuddling or hugging. Quinn didn't understand it, nor would she ever figure out why it was such a rarity for Santana to reach out an arm. It was ironic because that's all Santana ever did with Quinn: reach out to her and yet, this simple gesture was so difficult to do.

So when moments like these occurred, Quinn realized how much Santana must truly love her. Quinn felt safe from her nightmares and dangerous thoughts when Santana's warm body and strong arms were wrapped around her, and when Santana's nose softly grazed the finer hairs on the back of Quinn's neck. In moments like these, she is reminded of Santana's strength and how all along, it was her carrying the both of them with her love. But like all other times, Quinn fumbles with her grace to accept love; Quinn never knew how to react with affection because all she ever knew and was taught was the resistance and the repression of emotions.

Quinn squirmed and inched away from Santana, but Santana's arm was still firmly around her waist. Before taking any advances or pulling away, Santana took a moment to analyze Quinn's slight reluctancy. She frowned at the blonde's action, but this was typical Quinn: pushing her away when she needed Santana the most.

Santana sighed, "Quinn?" she was slow in her movements as she pulled herself closer to Quinn.

"Hmm?" Quinn sniffled as silent tears trickled down her cheeks.

Santana kissed her ear as she pulled herself as close as possible to Quinn's curled up body, "I'm never going to leave you. I love you."

Quinn tried to hold her composure and tried not to shake with her emotions. More tears seeped out of the corners of her eyes and she sniffled a little more and a little louder. How was she going to survive the entire week without Santana? "I love you too," she replied quietly with a hoarse voice. She laid there with Santana and didn't run away; she stayed with her and let Santana hold her tightly. It brought her back to the first night Santana said those three words that saved her. The night that she fell apart into so many more pieces of herself. Pieces sharp enough to cut her when Bella's memory came as a reminder of what she had given up that night. But Santana always tried to be there to save her; to bandage her broken heart. And Quinn returned the favor with lies, secrets and an attempt at distance - the one thing Quinn was perfect at: ruining perfection.

* * *

The next day, Quinn drove Santana to the airport. They held hands the entire way as Quinn held the wheel with her left hand and Santana gazed out of the window, trying not to cry the entire way there. Both girls were silent and let the music drone out any unwanted awkwardness. They arrived a little bit too early, so Quinn parked the car in the parking lot. There, they proceeded to avoid looking into each other's eyes and exchanged heavy sighs as both of them anticipated the absence of the other from each other's arms. Their hands were still entwined the entire time, still letting each other know that they were still connected.

Quinn waited a little bit for another rare moment from Santana. A rare moment that probably wasn't going to happen because Santana was Santana and old habits die hard. So Quinn was the first to tug Santana a little bit by the hand and pull her in for a tight (kind of awkward) hug in the car. They lingered in each other's arms for a few moments, not wanting to let go of the other one. When they finally pulled back from each other a little from the embrace, Quinn cupped Santana's face softly and gently brushed her soft cheek with her thumb as she gazed into Santana's watery eyes that were a sea of brown. She pulled her in for a long kiss and to her surprise, Santana let her. Both girls were very discreet about their public display of affections in Lima, Ohio of all places. But at this point neither girl cared if they were stoned to death. At least they would have died in each other's arms and a this point, they felt like dying anyway. To be apart from each other by so many miles and so many hours; it hurt both of their hearts just thinking about it. They finally pulled away from the searing kiss and both girls' faces were wet from each other's tears and not just their own.

Santana checked her watch, "I should go," she murmured sadly in a monotone voice.

Quinn only nodded in response, her eyes casted down, her face still wet from the tears that belonged to both her and Santana. She was the first to open her car door and exit to open the trunk and get Santana's luggage. Santana followed right after wiping her face dry of slightly smeared mascara and sniffling the last few tears away. They hugged one more time in a tight embrace before they said their final goodbye. Both hearts were breaking as Quinn watched Santana walk away into the terminal.

Quinn managed to hold her composure as she stood outside of the car in the parking lot and watched Santana disappear behind the automatic opening doors, but once she sat in the car in front of the wheel, she broke down. Her body felt weak as she clung onto the wheel and as she sobbed silent cries, she sporadically heaved in and out and was desperate for air. She hated herself for needing to rely Santana to survive. She hated herself for being desperate for Santana. Quinn just hated herself.

After a few minutes of falling apart, Quinn fumbled around and looked for her phone.

"Hello?" she greeted meekly, tired from her tears, "Yea, can you meet?" she rubbed her eyes that were still wet, "Yea, I can meet you in fifteen minutes. Usual spot."

Within forty-five minutes, Quinn was back in the Lopez household, slowly making her way up the stairs to her and Santana's room with a brown paper bag filled of substances that would make her forget the pain running through veins. The brown paper bag held a kit that would numb the painful throbbing in her heart.

Quinn sat at the computer desk, took out a fifth of whiskey and unscrewed the top open hurriedly. She chugged a third of it easily and painfully. She wanted to get drunk and she wanted to get drunk fast. She wanted to forget and make everything blurry. She wanted to forget the lies she told Santana, including the lie she said about talking to her parents this week while Santana was away for Los Angeles. Quinn made up the excuse so Santana wouldn't call her while she was doing these types of things; drowning in substances to forget the pain that readily found itself in her heart, especially in the absence of Santana and in the memory of the absence of Bella.

_Give me love like her,_  
_'cause lately I've been waking up alone,_  
_Paint splattered teardrops on my shirt,_

Quinn dug around the brown bag and took out two tiny ziplock bags, no bigger than a quarter, identical from the one she had from the party her and Santana attended on the 4th of July. She opened one of the drawers at the computer desk and grabbed her wallet, where she pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and a small razor. She spilt the white grainy content of the bags onto the desk and used the razor blade to cut it up and separate it into three straight lines. She then proceeded to roll up the twenty dollar bill and used it as a tool to help her snort the substance.

_Told you I'd let them go,_  
_And that I'll fight my corner,_  
_Maybe tonight I'll call ya,_  
_After my blood turns into alcohol,_  
_No, I just wanna hold ya._

Each line floated to her brain and through her vessels easily. It was all so easy. She took another swig of her whiskey and began to feel herself calm down and forget about Santana's and Bella's absence.

_Give a little time to me or burn this out,_  
_We'll play hide and seek to turn this around,_  
_All I want is the taste that your lips allow,_  
_My, my, my, my, oh give me love._

She began to forget about almost everything. Where she was, who she was, why she was there. She found herself staring at things and found herself getting from one place to another without even realizing she made the trip. At one point, she was staring at the razor blade on the computer desk and the next she was laying in the bathtub, staring at her wrists, the razor blade in her right hand and blood _everywhere_. It stained the tiles in the bathtub, it stained her white tank top, and her jean shorts. And the stains of blood was coming from her.

_Give me love like never before,_  
_'cause lately I've been craving more,_  
_And it's been a while but I still feel the same,_  
_Maybe I should let you go._

She didn't remember how it happened; she couldn't make connections between the jumping events. After being in the bathtub, all of a sudden she was sitting at the piano, drinking her small bottle of whiskey, cleaned up in a new set of clothing and her wrists bandaged with gauze from the first aid kit in the bathroom. She stared at her clean hands and then stared at the black and white keys of the piano. She played a note and shivered. It brought an eery memory she wasn't ready to remember without Santana there to save her. She drank her whiskey again and blinked hard as it became a little harder to see. While the alcohol streaming in her blood made her want to sleep, the white snow pumping in her veins kept her eyes wide awake.

_You know I'll fight my corner,_  
_And that tonight I'll call ya,_  
_After my blood is drowning in alcohol,_  
_No I just wanna hold ya._

Then without knowing how or when it happened, Quinn found herself laying in hers and Santana's bed, staring at the ceiling. It was dark.

_"When the hell did the sun set?"_ she drunkly thought to herself.

Quinn sat up and had trouble stumbling around the room, feeling and groping the wall to find the light switch. Her eyes stung as the lights blinded her. She was seeing two of everything. She tripped over to the computer desk and found her phone. _6:52AM_.

Quinn was lost. She enjoyed the feeling. She was lost in the drunk and drugged out events that had just occurred, not lost in the past of her sober mistakes and decisions. It was nice, to be able to forget. To be distracted. To not feel pain for once. Then her phone vibrated and a message appeared. Quinn was confused, partly because she was still high and drunk and partly because it was almost seven in the morning. Who the fuck would be texting her at this hour.

_Santana:_ _Hey, I knw u said we shouldn't risk contact in case ur parentals see while u're trying to patch things up with them, but I jst wanted to let u knw I got 2 Cali safely. I miss u and I love u. Stay strong & remember I'm always in ur heart and u're always in mine xxoo. I wish I could be in ur arms rt nw._

Quinn dropped the phone and the light 'thud' it made, rang through her ears. Quinn's eyes blurred, but not because of the drugs or the alcohol; her vision was blurred because tears impaired it. Her heart broke all over again and she came crashing back to slight reality. She shook her head furiously. She wasn't going back to reality, she wasn't ready yet. So she rummaged through the room looking for her bottle that she prayed still had some liquid in it. She wobbled sloppily to the dresser and found it there. Quinn grabbed it with urgency and finished off the small bottle.

Before the sun rose, Quinn was downstairs, on the couch in the living room, curled up in a little ball, hugging herself because she couldn't hug anyone else and because no one else could hug her. She finally fell into a slumber where her nightmares and reality collided into one. She was going to wake up the next day, cold, hungover and slightly confused. But worst of all, Quinn was going to wake up alone.

* * *

Santana sat in the studio, wide-eyed at all of the gadgets lit up and all of the golden and platinum records that hung on the painted red walls. She had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

Santana snapped back into reality and focused her wide eyes on the man in front of her, giving her a tips on how to be a successful singer/songwriter. His voice became audible instead of just a blur in the background.

" - to be a real artist, you really need to dig deep and write songs that have meaning and that hold emotions that other people can relate to. People like to relate to songs."

Santana stared at him with her full attention and interest in what he was saying and she raised an eyebrow, "I can write a song that's relatable, Brian," she claimed firmly in only a demanding way Santana could say it.

Brian laughed a little, "Your uncle said you had spunk."

"It's not 'spunk'," Santana answered back quickly, "It's talent," she smirked, feeling a little more comfortable as she leaned back into her seat and crossed her legs. This felt right; this felt like the place she belonged to.

Brian laughed again, "I like you," he nodded his head in approval, "Alright, I'm going to give you a day to write and compose a song and I want you to perform it tomorrow in front of me, and we'll see if you've got spunk or if you've got talent."

Santana wanted to roll her eyes at the challenge, but decided that it wasn't a very smart decision, considering Brian was one of the biggest producers and songwriters in the industry at the moment, "Challenge accepted," she politely answered.

"Don't forget, we need raw emotion. Something that come from the heart."

Again, it took all of Santana's will-power not to roll her eyes, but she understood his demands and directions, "Copy that, El Capitan," she mocked saluted Brian.

* * *

_Give a little time to me or burn this out,_  
_We'll play hide and seek to turn this around,_  
_All I want is the taste that your lips allow,_  
_My, my, my, my, oh give me love,  
_  
_Give a little time to me, or burn this out,_  
_We'll play hide and seek to turn this around,_  
_All I want is the taste that your lips allow,_  
_My, my, my, my, oh give me love._

Santana finished the last note on the piano in the studio and she finally opened her eyes after having them closed while she was lost in the pain and emotion created in her song. She felt the flood of emotions through her words from the tips of her fingertips to the bottom of her toes. When Santana wrote the words, she cried and teared up as she thought about Quinn and Bella. When Santana composed the song, wrote it, and practiced it all day, the pain never subsided from her heart because the words she wrote were real agony and real anguish that bled from her heart. It took all of her strength to keep her composure and not break down in front of her uncle and especially in front of Brian. She took a slow breath and then heard clapping and she turned to face Brian and her uncle with a confused look on her face.

"You've got talent, kid."


	9. Heavy Hearts

**WARNING - A/N:** This chapter contains suggested content involving sexual abuse - please don't read if something may be triggered.

Also, I'm sure we're all aware of Cory Monteith's very recent passing - may his soul rest in peace. That was really the push to finally post this chapter. I've been trying to finish it for months now, but writer's block and life have been getting in the way. I know this story talks about drug and alcohol abuse, as well as self-harm. Please, if you need to talk to anyone, please know that you can talk to me if you are struggling with something or just need someone to talk to. I know it can be a lot when a bad habit, or memory is triggered - please just know I am here. Or even if you want/need to talk about Cory's passing, I'm also here, just PM me.

Well, I hope you all enjoy... This chapter is kind of all over the place, I'm sorry lol. I swear I have a brilliant plan for this story - it's just the matter of getting there and putting into intricate words lol. Also, I am still writing You're My Head and You're My Heart - dont worry, that was an accidental hiatus as well ;) Sending love to everyone - hope everyone is enjoying the summer holiday :D

* * *

Santana wrote down beautiful words that gushed from her heart and spilt onto the paper of her journal. They were beautiful because love was her inspiration; they were real because Quinn was her muse. Santana felt this love for Quinn radiate off of her skin and into the air that she breathed. It was changing her. It could be in a good way, or it may be in a bad way, depending on the way you looked at it, but in Santana's eyes, Quinn was changing her for the good. Quinn was making her _better_.

Santana didn't plan on feeling this way about Quinn. If anything, she tried to battle her feelings away for the longest time. She was never one for soul mates and serendipity. That was always Quinn's thing. Santana was all about quantity, not quality. The more attention you gave her, the more jewelry you bought her and the more breadstix you fed her meant the more sex she would reward you with. Santana was set on believing that that's what relationships were; give and you shall receive. But she fell for Quinn and her heart chose to fall in love with Quinn at her frailest moments. It scared Santana at first - loving someone, especially someone like Quinn. Quinn was always so closed-off, so prideful, so controlling, so much like Santana. They were always in a fit of tug-of-war for almost _everything. _  
It was the scariest thing Santana ever did - kissing Quinn first on that night she caught her crying in bed.

Santana's love for Quinn made her believe in the existence of fate and soul mates.

As she stared at the lined paper filled with lines of what spoke the truth, Santana's mind wandered off to her first memory of Quinn.

They were only nine when they met each other and immediately found each other as competition. Of course, Quinn and Santana's friendship would start off with a fight; it only made sense as their dynamic as a duo. Santana sometimes came off as harsh because she was so passionate and honest (to the full extent of the word). She was hardheaded, always knew what she wanted, and was always sure that she was right. Quinn on the other hand held similar, if not nearly the same exact attributes. The only difference was that she less spontaneous about her decisions in being honest and crude. She bit her tongue a lot because she wanted people to _want_ to be her and wanted them to _wish _they were her friend. She wanted their jealousy, but never their hate.

Their personalities have somewhat stayed the same since the age of nine. Even then, the girls were plotting to rule the school and hence, their first encounter resulting into a fight. Santana's mind drifted off into a memory of what clearly happened that day.

Santana was new; she just transferred from a different school. A _very _different school. The school she was at now had a playground rather than just gravel under her feet and tag and hop-scotch were no longer her only available activities to play. The school she was at now had nice green grass, rather than bullet shells and drug needles all over the school campus. Santana took a deep breath and stared at these strange children who seemed a lot happier than her. It was time to make them her minions; after all, defense has always been the best offense.

Little Santana, marched up to kids at the swings, with her purple fleece zip-up jacket and blue leggings with white flowers. She approached a little blonde girl who was wearing the same jacket and shoved her off the swing. The girl fell harshly onto the wood chips that surrounded them.

"Hey!" the blonde girl screamed, still on the floor. She tried to get up quickly and brush herself off to challenge the girl who pushed her so roughly.

"Move it or lose it, princess," Santana scoffed, rolling her eyes (a talent she's had since she was two), making her way to the swing and sitting herself down defiantly, making a scene in front of the kids that must have been the blonde's friends.

"The name is Quinn," the blonde girl huffed as she glared at Santana, "now get off of _my_ swing."

Santana seemed to have shrugged it off though, as she began swinging herself, "Quinn doesn't sound like _queen_ to me, so it looks like this isn't your throne anymore," Santana giggled evilly (only a nine-year old Santana was capable of doing that). It seemed like a triumph to Santana on her first day; all of the kids on the playground watching her taunt this blonde girl.

Then Quinn began crying and sobbing loudly. In a quick moment, Santana felt a little guilty, but brushed off the feeling. She needed to show these new kids who was boss around here now. Then from a distance, Santana saw a teacher approaching and quickly she realized the blonde's plan, her eyes widening in panic.

"What's going on, Quinn?" the teacher asked concerned.

Quinn rubbed her eyes, fake-crying and sniffling. She pointed in Santana's direction, "She pushed me off of the swing."

"Santana," the teacher said firmly.

Santana rolled her eyes at the blonde's antics, as she halted the swing with her feet and walked towards the teacher and Quinn.

"Yes, Ms. Thompson?" she attempted to say in the most innocent voice, her hands folded behind her back.

"Why did you push Quinn?" the teacher asked.

"I was only trying to help her go faster on the swing, Ms. Thompson," Santana innocently replied, "I guess I pushed a little too hard and she fell. It was an accident," she shrugged.

Santana doesn't remember much of what happened in between, but she does remember having to stay inside with Quinn during their next recess together. They were forced to sit next to each other with the teacher at a short distance away at her own desk, barely paying attention to the two very quiet girls. Santana was bored to death and began drawing on her desk; mostly images of the girl next to her with x's as her eyes.

"Quit drawing on the desk!" Quinn hissed.

Santana shot a glare in Quinn's direction, "Does this desk have your name on it too, princess?" she ground the pencil harder onto the desk on purpose.

"Quit it!" Quinn repeated, in a highly annoyed tone.

Of course Santana ignored the girl and proceeded with her cartoon as if not hearing the blonde girl.

"Quit. It." Quinn said firmer and this time placing her hand on top of Santana's causing the other little girl to stop.

Santana stared at her, this time without an angry glare; just a curious look painted on her face. She snatched her hand away angrily, placed her pencil down on the desk and folded her arms across her chest moodily, "Fine, Princess of Prudes."

"You're not going to fit in here very well," Quinn stated pointedly.

"Why try to fit in, when I was born to stand out," Santana replied quickly with her arms still folded.

Quinn shot her a slightly confused look, "Why would you want to stand out?"

"Because there's a million stars in the sky, but only one moon," Santana shrugged.

And though the girls were only nine, Quinn understood what Santana meant. And although the girl certainly got under Santana's skin, there weren't many other kids like Quinn.

"I'd rather be the sun," Quinn responded quietly.

Santana raised an eyebrow as if piecing something together. As if at the tender age of nine, she realized that maybe Quinn and her were meant to be a team. Her logic had a lot to do with the fact that they were wearing the same exact purple fleece zip-up jacket. And Quinn was the only other person to understand what she meant by wanting to stand out.

"I'll be the moon and you can be the sun and everyone can be our clouds and stars and dance around us."

* * *

Santana heard an abrupt knocking at her door and it shocked her out of her heavy thoughts as her eyes shot up from her paper.

"Come in," Santana invited.

Her uncle peeked his head in, "Whatcha doin', Mija?"

"Writing," Santana sighed as she averted her gaze outside of the window that had a beautiful view of sunny Los Angeles and its everlasting palm trees.

Santana's uncle made his way into the room and sat on the foot of Santana's bed, "You made me extremely proud today," he beamed, "those lyrics," he paused as he remembered the raw emotion he felt seeping out of this young girl, "they were incredible and so passionate," he took the time to look into Santana's eyes to show her that this was the truth, "your lyrics were so real."

Santana gave a sheepish smile, "Thanks Tio Martin," she closed her lyric book and put it on her bedside table, "it means a lot." Santana grabbed her phone that was on her bedside and expected at least a text from a certain somebody, but was disappointed to only see texts from Brittany.

Martin eyed Santana's lyric book and then realized Santana's sudden interest in her phone, "So who's the boy?"

Santana looked up from her phone with a raised eyebrow, "Hmm?"

"Those emotions came from somewhere, Santana. It's okay, I won't be mad, I just want to know who this boy is so I can roughen him up a little to make sure he's treating you right," Martin smiled and winked.

Santana giggled at her uncle's words, "There's no boy."

"Santana..."

"Tio, I swear, no boys."

Martin snatched her lyric book quickly and opened it to read it.

"Tio! No!" Santana jumped up to try to grab back the book that held her private thoughts, but her uncle hopped off of the bed and was standing, dodging Santana's hands.

Martin silently read some of the words Santana had just written moments ago and paused, trying to keep Santana still and trying to avoid her prying hands.

"I never thought that you would be the one to hold my heart  
But you came around and you knocked me off the ground from the start  
You put your arms around me  
And I believe that it's easier for you to let me go  
You put your arms around me and I'm home"

Martin read the lyrics out loud, plainly and even without a melody or a piano as its background, the simple poetry sounded like music.

"Mija, you can't tell me you're _not_ writing about a boy," he teased.

Santana finally dodged Martin's guard and was able to retrieve the book and her private thoughts back. She hugged it tightly against her chest, "I'm not in love with a boy," it came out harsher than Santana intended.

"But you are in love, si?" Martin asked.

Santana looked at her uncle and was not able to lie, but didn't really want to go into the complicated truth either. With her lyric book still held tightly against her chest, Santana plopped down on her bed, face first into the soft pillow.

Santana felt a hand on her shoulder and weight shift the bed, "You miss her a lot, don't you?"

Santana felt her lungs stop working. Did she hear her uncle right? A flood of panic streamed through her body and shock silenced her voice.

"Mija, it's okay. Your secret is safe with me, but just so you know," Santana's uncle paused for a brief moment, partly to see if Santana was still breathing, "I love you and support you no matter who you fall in love with. And for the record... I knew all along and I'm pretty sure your parents do too. It doesn't change the fact of how proud I am of you."

Santana felt herself breathe again and felt happiness pulse through her heart, though it still ached for Quinn.

"And take care of this girl," Martin added as he stood up from the bed, taking steps towards the doorway, "She sounds like she's good for you, and hopefully you're good for her."

* * *

Santana found herself on the plane a couple days earlier than she expected. She stared out of the window as she bid a silent farewell to the city that she knew she belonged to, but not without someone who was constantly on her mind. Santana quietly sighed to herself a subtle sadness brewing in her stomach. She was happy to be coming back home, and was excited to surprise Quinn a couple days earlier than planned, but she couldn't help but feel something turn at the pit of her stomach. Her arm hairs prickled up as she let worried thoughts consume her. She didn't want to feel it, but there was something bad haunting her.

As soon as she touched down back on Lima, Ohio grounds, she dialed Quinn's phone number hurriedly as she waited outside of the airport for a cab to pass her way. She called at least three times and all three times, it went to voicemail. Santana frowned in disappointment, but figured that Quinn was still at her parents' house, straightening their relationship out. She hailed a cab and decided to head home and perhaps surprise Quinn with a little romance there.

Sitting in the cab, Santana's stomach still held that quiet tornado of bad instincts twirling around. When she recognized her neighborhood, her phone suddenly lit up and started ringing. Quinn's name and picture showed up and Santana answered immediately, smiling.

"Babe, I -" but before she could finish or actually start her sentence, she was cut off... by a boy's voice.

"Santana?"

Santana frowned in frustration and in anger. Why did a _boy_ have Quinn's phone?

"Who wants to know?" Santana spat with angry venom.

"It's Mike. Mike Chang from the football team," Mike seemed nervous and anxious on the other line.

"Why do you have Quinn's phone?" Santana demanded immediately.

"I was hanging out with some of the guys on the team and Quinn was there too. Everyone was drinking and -" This time Mike was cut off.

"Where is Quinn?!" Santana nearly screamed.

"I drove everyone to Karofsky's house. I didn't want to be part of it and I swear I -"

"Part of what?!"

"Ma'am, we've arrived to your destination. That'll be 30$," the cab driver announced after being parked in front of Santana's house for about five minutes.

Santana held out her finger, signaling the taxi driver to wait and to shut up, "Mike, where is Quinn?! I need the address."

"2240 Huckleberry Rd. Listen, Santana I'm so sorr-" but before Mike could finish his apology, Santana clicked the phone and hung up.

"Take me to 2240 Huckleberry Rd. please. As fast as a hundred dollars will make you drive," Santana's eyes were focused on the reflection of the driver's eyes in the rear mirror.

The cab driver nodded in response and sped off in another direction. It was convenient that Lima wasn't so big; it only took about five minutes for Santana to arrive at Karofsky's.

"Stay here, and wait for me," Santana demanded to the driver, "I'll tip you an extra twenty."

The driver shrugged nonchalantly in response. Santana jumped out of the car and slammed the door, preparing and channeling her anger to what was going to be inside of the house she was in front of. Mike Chang then hopped out of his SUV and caught up with Santana, nearly giving Santana a heart attack.

"Chang, what the fuck?!" Santana screamed, clutching her chest, but not faltering in her step, still walking towards the front door.

"I didn't want you to go alone!" Mike reasoned, "I figured you would need some back up," he shrugged, "I feel bad for just leaving her."

Santana gritted her teeth and wanted to punch Mike in the face for leaving Quinn with a bunch drunk jerks in the first place, but since he had _some_ decency of letting her know and accompanying her, she held her balled fists back. Instead, she slammed her fist against the hard oak door. No one answered. Santana repeated her motion and waited all of thirty-seconds - nothing. She tried the door knob and when she realized it was locked, she immediately pulled a hair-pin out of her hair and began tussling with the door knob. Mike looked at her with an intrigued face.

"Stop staring at me like that Chang," Santana said, her eyes still focused on the door knob, "I'm from Lima-Heights Adjacent, I learned this when I was three." And right when she finished her sentence, Santana managed to open the door. She stormed into the living room as if she owned the place. No one was there.

"Where's his room." Santana inquired.

Mike led her into the hallway on the right and to the door of Karofsky's room. Santana wasted no time and twisted the door knob and slammed the door open. Santana lost it at the sight of what was going on - at what was _about_ to happen. Quinn was laid out on a bed, completely passed out, with Karofsky about to strip her of her black and green striped dress that was already hiked up above her naval and two other football players surrounding them. All of the guys in that room had a look of shock and anger painted on their faces, but none of their faces compared to Santana's brink of what seemed to be anger, anguish, pain and disgust all mixed into one.

"GET OFF OF HER, YOU FUCKING PERVERT!" Santana screamed, like she saw bloody murder.

Karofsky hopped off of Quinn and the bed and faced Mike and Santana exposing his belt buckle already undone. He lifted his hands as if signaling defeat, "Hey look, nothing -" the next sound coming out of his mouth was a groan of pain as Santana kicked him solidly and powerfully right in between his legs, where he deserved to be mutilated. He was huddled in a ball, on the floor, gasping for air. Santana then proceeded to punch another guy in the face, while the other one tried to escape and flee, but Mike grabbed a hold of his jacket, threw him on the ground and kicked him in the stomach. Mike proceeded to do the same to Karofsky and the guy that Santana punched in the face. They deserved murder, but Santana settled for some bruises. Watching Mike kick the crap out of the three ass holes made her happy about not punching Mike in the face when she saw him.

Santana quickly ran to Quinn, pulled down her dress and tried to wake her with a few soft slaps to the face and some shaking ,"Quinn, get up," Santana shook her a little harder, "Come on, Quinn, get up." But there was no response. Santana was desperate to get out of the filthy pig pen she was in. She mustered up all of her strength and carried Quinn like a baby. She walked out of the room, her adrenaline kicking in, giving her the strength to carry Quinn with a little ease. Mike was right behind Santana when she ran out of the house.

"I can give you a ride to the hospital or to your house," Mike quickly offered.

"It's fine, we have a cab," Santana replied quickly, walking briskly towards the taxi that had been waiting.

"Well I can help you carry her," Mike kindly gestured, "You know to your house or wherever you're going," he opened the cab door for Santana so she could put Quinn inside.

"Hey is she going to be okay?" the cab driver eyed the teens through his rear view mirror.

"Yea, she's fine," Santana answered the driver's question, as she tried to position Quinn's limp body in a sitting position so she could buckle her up.

"Look, I ain't trying to have no throw up in my car," he complained, "Last time that happened, I had to pay two hundred dollars out of my own wallet."

Santana rolled her eyes, "On second thought, Chang, I think we'll take you up on your offer."

Santana struggled carrying Quinn out of the cab and Mike lent a hand to strap her into the backseat of his car. As soon as Santana and Mike transferred the rest of her luggage into his trunk, they immediately sped off, away from the house that Santana wanted to burn down. They shortly arrived to Santana's and again, Mike helped carry Quinn inside as well as Santana's belongings. He was probably the nicest guy she had ever met, Santana secretly thought in the midst of her panic attack.

While Mike was carrying in Santana's luggage, Santana was on the couch with Quinn trying to bring her to consciousness.

"Oh, God, please Quinn wake up," she pleaded, tears brimming her eyes as she shook Quinn's limp body harshly. Santana tried slapping her, but that didn't work either.

"Try pouring ice cold water on her face," Mike suggested as he set down Santana's luggage onto the floor, "It might shock her awake," he shrugged as he sensed Santana's _are-you-fucking-kidding-me_ face.

"Don't touch anything," Santana ordered as she began to back away from Quinn and into the kitchen, "And that includes Quinn," she eyed her worriedly. Mike nodded and waited near the door with his hands in the pockets of his letterman jacket.

Santana came out of the kitchen with an ice cold pitcher of water from the refrigerator in her kitchen. She took a deep breath, preparing herself. She lifted the lid of the pitcher and harshly tossed the water in Quinn's direction.

Quickly the living room was filled with sounds of Quinn's gasping for air and a thud from Santana falling to her knees, greatful from the higher power above that woke her up. With Santana, fell the pitcher that was in her hands.

Quinn was shaking and in shock. Her eyes were wide, and she was drenched in ice cold water. She looked like a lost, cold child.

"S-S-Sant-ta-tana?" she shook, her lower lip quivering, her arms hugging herself in search of any type of warmth.

Santana quickly managed to get up on the couch next to Quinn, holding her, rubbing her arms, "It's okay, I'm here now," she pulled her closer into a tight hug.

Immediately Quinn began to cry heavily into Santana's shoulder. She collapsed, emotionally and physically. She clung onto Santana as she gripped her shoulders. This seemed to be a habit of hers - clinging onto Santana. And it seemed to be a habit of Santana to always be the only one willing to hold a hand out to Quinn.

"Shhh, shhh," Santana continued to hug Quinn tightly and eyed Mike, which was a big enough gesture to let him know he could leave. When he opened the door, Santana mouthed a silent _thank you_ showing him her gratitude.

"It's okay," Santana softly repeated as she rubbed Quinn's back. She felt the poor girl quiver and shake and crumble in her arms. Santana's eyes began to form tears as well as all of her emotions caught up to her at once. Her mind and heart was finally processing everything that had happened in less than thirty minutes. She wiped her tears away quickly and pulled away from the tight embrace so she could look Quinn in the face, "Don't you ever fucking do that again," she sniffled, "I thought you were - I thought you were fucking dead, Quinn!" Santana shook with anger and anguish bubbling inside of her.

"I'm so sorry," Quinn broke down harder, "I don't know what I was thinking, Santana."

Santana's heart broke at the sight of the broken girl in front of her. She didn't have it in her to stay mad at the poor soul she was trying to save. She felt her tense muscles relax and soften as she felt her rage melt away from her heart. Santana found herself enveloping the girl into a soft, but strong hug. She buried her face in the nook between Quinn's neck and shoulder and tears began to wet Quinn's soft skin and soon, both girls were shaking with so much emotion pouring out of them - draining both girls.

"I don't know what I would do without you," Santana cried out loud.

And despite Quinn's wet clothes and wet hair, both girls fell asleep in each other's arms with heavy eyes and heavy hearts. Neither wanting to talk about what just happened or what had happened for the time they were apart. All that mattered now was that they were together and safe. But in the back of Santana's mind there were so many questions brewing in her mind - so many concerns drowning her thoughts. But she knew Quinn and she knew Quinn would only push her away if she prodded. What Santana just wanted, at least for the night was to hold her as close as she possibly could and be good for Quinn.


End file.
